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by Amira Devant
Summary: When everything for a photo-shoot goes wrong, leaving an irate Anna Wintour and a diva photographer Seo Joon, Isabelle Wright needs her best to fix the problem. Kurt Hummel, part time PA, has to save the day. Kurt is Vogue's newest, and hottest, model. Watch out world. AU-ish Klaine. Kurt-centric.
1. Smile for the Camera

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Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. Trust me, things would have been very different if I did.

Summary: When everything for a photo-shoot goes wrong, leaving an irate Anna Wintour and a diva photographer Seo Joon, Isabelle Wright needs her best to fix the problem. Kurt Hummel, part time PA, has to save the day. Kurt is Vogue's newest, and hottest, model. Watch out world. AU-ish Klaine. Kurt-centric.

AN: This monster mutated from a drabble to this… The plot bunny attacked me; viciously.

If anyone knows where Seo Joon is from, I'll write a one shot for them on any prompt. Because, seriously, if you know you are awesome on so many levels.

Chapter 1

Smile for the Camera

-0-0-0-

Isabelle has never, in her years of working at Vogue dot com, seen a photo-shoot deteriorate as quickly as this one. And this had to be one of the most important ones Vogue dot com ever undertook. She could feel her years of hard work fall away as the shoot started from bad and went to worse.

To start, this shoot was going to a challenge. It was a joint project between Vogue and Vogue dot com, a special feature of Marc Jacob's new line. It was decided that, since the feature would include a full photographic spread, the whole advertisement should be shot at the same time. What would have been a special spread changed into a project, the likes of which Isabelle had never done before.

Anna Wintour, Vogue Editor, worked with Isabelle to organise the project. Marc Jacob's only wanted one photographer: the very temperamental but brilliant Seo Joon. The South Korean was a perfectionist and had a reputation for being harsh in every sense of the word. But he was the best up and coming photographer, accumulating accolades by the dozens over the last couple of years. He had an eye for style.

Only the best models from four different agencies were hired, the main model to be chosen on the day by both the designer and the photographer. The three studios were rented, and permission from the city officials was granted to shoot in Central Park, Times Square, Grand Central Station and Brooklyn Bridge.

The project would take at least 2 weeks.

And it started out in the worst way possible, Seo Joon's flight was overbooked due to a cancellation of another flight. He spent 14 hours in an airport after he had been told he didn't have a seat. His assistant finally gotten a seat on the next flight out, with some creative booking on Kurt, ensured that his connecting flights to New York was booked before he even boarded the plane. Unfortunately the man was fuming when he landed on US soil due to the fact the only seat he could get on short noticed was an economy. Some Korean boy group (who the hell has 14 members in a group?) booked out first and business class.

Oh, and Marc Jacobs' luggage had been misplaced by the airlines. His personal luggage ended up in Hawaii. But at least the clothes for the shoot made it but it did leave to one grumpy designer who arrived in New York with nothing save his laptop and carry on. It took two days for the airline to locate the missing baggage and another day for it to make its way back to New York. At this point, Isabelle was sure nothing else could go wrong, only to stare disbelieving at a panicking Kurt when he informed her that the studio they had booked flooded due to a pipe bursting. In a mad scramble for another location, Isabelle had Kurt book 3 different studios just in case.

The shoot had been delayed by a day and when everyone could finally congregate, Marc and Seo got into an argument over everything that had been planned. Apparently they both had very different visions for the shoot. Isabelle was close to tears as Anna practically frothing at the mouth. The Vogue editor had entered the fray when she realised that neither of their _visions_ would work well in a Vogue article.

"Coffee," came the soft yet high pitched tone from behind Isabelle, making her smile. She turned around to gratefully accept the offered cup, eying the familiar logo with a smile. Kurt Hummel was a godsend to Isabelle. The young man was smart, efficient and had both a sense and eye for fashion. He was the best intern she ever had, and when he chose rather to go to NYADA rather than pursue fashion, she offered him a part time job as her PA. Sometimes it seemed that when she started to drown, he always appeared at her rescue.

"Thank you Kurt. I really needed this coffee. This day is just crazy," Isabelle sighed wearily. Kurt snorted and raised an eyebrow, "Crazy is an understatement, Isabelle. But this is the biggest project you've ever done…"

Blue-grey eyes glanced around, ensuring that the Terrible Three, as he had come to call them, were still arguing before muttering, "And you're working with some of the most temperamental people I've ever met. And that's saying something." Isabelle snorted into her coffee as she side-glanced her PA. Kurt Hummel was certainly one of a kind. When the boy had interviewed, Isabelle had to respect his sense of style.

Once she looked past that, she noticed the tall boy with porcelain skin and cheek bones that she would kill for; Kurt Hummel was a looker and didn't even know it. And don't get her started on his eyes. There were quite a few instances where she stifled a laugh at a poor boy who tripped over himself when meeting the one Kurt Hummel, boy from Ohio who didn't realise he was being hit on. A boy who never looked at anyone else because he was head over heels in love with his high school boyfriend. The same boy who broke his heart, and Isabelle had seen the despair of that aftermath as well at the slow repair of that relationship. It seemed that Kurt's boyfriend truly did want to make amends but Kurt was still hurting from the betrayal. It reminded her just how young he was, not even 21. She forgot sometimes that behind the efficient, snarky assistant was a 19 year old boy.

He was certainly something.

"I'm not saving you if they hear you calling them that," Isabelle retorted as she eyed the chaos the set had descended into. Months of planning was coming undone on the first day. And honestly, she didn't see how this could be saved. The concept had been agreed upon. Marc had wanted this line to be about wear-ability and a high sense of fashion. It seemed that Marc wanted a runway style shoot while Anna wanted something with a lot of computer editing. That was all good and well, but Seo Joon wanted _no editing _and to use the photographic art style.

Kurt smirked at the response as the three were still arguing at each other whilst the staff stood around awkwardly. On top of this mess, two of the models chosen had to cancel. One eloped and was honeymoon. (Kurt had to raise an eyebrow at that. She was losing her contract if the tone of the apologetic agent was anything to go by.) The other injured himself base jumping. (Who the hell goes base jumping the week before one of the biggest shoots of their career?)

"I don't think that's a problem," Kurt replied dryly, "They are too busy trying to kill each other with their voices. They should teach a class at NYADA on voice projection."

Isabelle laughed quietly at that not, suppressing the sigh of sadness at the fact that Kurt refused Parsons for a place at NYADA, the school that turned him down on his first try.

Kurt's face turned serious after that, "But seriously, you need to take control and get them to agree. We need to confirm the studios and the dates for the outdoor shoot, and confirm on the new models. Everything is going to be backlogged."

Isabelle turned to Kurt with wide eyes, "You want to send me into _that?_ I thought you liked having me as a boss."

The brunette merely rolled his eyes at her. Isabelle sighed, briefly wondered if she could make Kurt do her job, before dismissing the idea. Instead, she steeled her nerves and walked towards the fray.

Anna was arguing fiercely with Marc while Seo was scowling at the two. At this point, Isabelle didn't even know what they were arguing over. The only thing they had all agreed on was the clothing.

"This needs to stop," Isabelle blurted out after watching the tension in the circle of professionals. This caused all three tempers to be directed at her, eyes questioning her intrusion. The blond woman sighed as she contemplated her choice of career. "We are behind schedule already, and that is excluding the delays over the sites and the fact we have lost two models."

At the mention of the models, Seo Joon jerked and stared at her wide eyed. "You've lost the models too?"

This photo shoot was cursed. It had to be.

Seeing that she had their full attention, Isabelle explain what had occurred. Anna had groaned in response when she heard the tale. This put then even more behind schedule. During this, Kurt had magically appeared bearing coffee for the three terrors.

"We have to practically re-plan this whole endeavour," Marc grumbled.

Isabelle sighed, drinking her own coffee. Kurt caught her eye and smiled slightly. His eyes were dancing slightly, as if to say 'At least they aren't arguing anymore.'

Isabelle snorted lightly, 'Kurt would be far blunter than that.'

As silence fell on the group, Kurt shifted to her side and waited. Isabelle knew she was going to have to do something to save this project.

"Then let's start planning," she finally said, getting the attention from the terrible three. "We have the clothing picked out. We have several sites reserved but that doesn't help if there is no theme or style decided."

"This clothing," Marc said tiredly as he glared at the other two of the terrible three, "is a style of wearable high fashion. It's mainly menswear with a few stylish but classic female pieces. It's more smart casual and formal than plain casual. That is why I thought a runway style shoot would be effective."

"Okay," Isabelle cut in as the editor and photographer opened their mouths, "You know your clothing the best but the style of advertising is old. You might as well have a runway show and publish the photographs from that. I know it's an old sure-fire way of getting your line out there but we want something more for this project. We could do a few shots in that style. It would be fantastic to display at the actually launch event."

Marc looked put out but nodded reluctantly at the sound logic. Isabelle sighed in relief before turning to the other two. "What style did the both of you have planned?"

Anna gave Seo Joon a cold look, which he returned. She turned to Isabelle with a haughty expression. Kurt, in the meanwhile, was quickly typing out notes on his iPad.

"We are essentially shooting an exclusive photo spread and an advertisement spread," she reminded everyone, "so we can shoot a classic outdoor style shoot but use editing software to make more appealing to our readers. This works well for both our companies." Anna had to point out to Isabelle.

Isabelle said nothing but nodded at Seo to state his piece.

"Capture the feeling of the clothing," Joon said after a moment, brown eyes glaring from behind his fringe, "the feeling of wearing the clothing."

The South Korean man paused here and looked at Marc, flipping his long hair back, "The feeling of wearing high fashion, of being fashionable while doing everyday things. A photograph that inspires that does not need anything else to sell the clothing."

Kurt had stopped his typing to look at the grouchy man. Despite everything, the brown-haired boy smiled at that. Seo Joon was an artist. He had the need for following his passion and sharing it with the world. It was something Kurt could understand, and knows why he fights tooth and nail against every idea but his own.

"You like that idea as the style for this shoot, Kurt?" Isabelle asked, startling him out of his thoughts. "As someone who reads Vogue, follows fashion and loves Marc Jacobs."

Kurt froze as everyone turned on him. He swallowed as he tried not to stammer his answer. "I just… I understand how Mr Joon feels, as a fellow artist. But as a buyer of designer clothing, I wouldn't want anything to detract from the actual clothing. You imagine what it would be like to wear the clothing you see, how it would look on you and how it would feel to walk wearing something that amazing. The spread has to make people _want _the clothing."

They all nodded at that and quickly fell into a discussion. Anna, Isabelle and Marc started talking a rapid pace about target markets, styles and locations. Seo Joon, on the other hand, was staring at Kurt with a blank face.

"Is there anything I can help you with, Mr Joon?" Kurt asked as he flushed at the intense gaze. The man was unreadable.

"You're an artist?" the man finally asked, "a designer?"

Kurt laughed at that, his voice high and clear. An eyebrow rose on reflex as he shook his head, "No, I'm a performer. I want to be on Broadway."

Seo Joon looked shocked for a moment before he went back to a blank albeit grumpy expression. "Why is a performer working at a fashion magazine?"

"Part time job," Kurt replied as he returned to his iPad, "I'm a student. I have to pay the rent somehow. And I like fashion."

The man said nothing else but nodded as he turned back to the heated conversation that was occurring.

Kurt left them to their devices as he made his way to the entrance. An intern was dropping off the profiles of all the models they could hire on short notice to replace the missing two. On the way, he asked an assistant to prepare another round of coffee.

'Seems like they are finally making progress,' Kurt thought with a relieved smile. 'Maybe we'll finally get some work done now.'

Work was good. Work kept him busy and didn't let his mind wonder. He didn't have to think about the fact his boyfriend who he had loved, and had been loved by, had cheated on him. Because he _missed him, because Kurt wasn't there for him. _It felt like Blaine broke more than just his heart at times. He craved his company at times, but Kurt knew that even if he could drown himself in hazel eyes, he still wouldn't trust his ex-boyfriend. He just couldn't.

Kurt knew that he had messed up by working too much and ignoring Blaine at the time. But he was trying to find a path in New York and Blaine had asked him to go. Kurt had been trying to build a life in New York. He had been trying to find the confidence to try again when it came to NYADA and his job was just the boost.

Work kept Kurt from thinking about how much he loved Blaine. That he loved him. But it hurt. That one act broke the trust between them. And it hurt Kurt more than NYADA rejecting him. Blaine was the one person he let in; he trusted with his heart and body.

And that one act of cheating, it made Kurt feel lower than lower. Kurt felt worthless; like he was that replaceable. Like Kurt _didn't matter;_ and that hurt more than any other rejection.

Instead, Kurt went back to faking his self-esteem; self-confidence. Just until he could pick up the pieces and put himself back together.

So until then, Kurt kept his head high and shoulders' squared. Even if still loving Blaine hurt.

Kurt smiled and thanked Sofia for the files before sending her backed to the office. The files came in a box with handles. There looked close to 50 models portfolio.

When Kurt got back, the four had commandeered a table and seemed to have hashed out the details of the project. Kurt guessed that some sort of agreement had been reached.

"Isabelle," Kurt murmured quietly to his boss, "I have the models' portfolios."

"Good timing, Kurt," Isabelle said, turning around. "We just confirmed the style of shoot. It's going to be a collaboration of ideas, but essentially we are going to Seo Joon's vision but using Anna's ideas for the advertisement special. Marc's has final say because it is his clothing."

"Impressive," Kurt replied, somewhat dryly, as he placed the box on the table, "I will need to confirm locations and models before we can go near wardrobe."

Isabelle nodded as she started flipping through resumes, "Seo Joon will pick the locations. He's taking the creative directorship."

Kurt nodded as he made a note on his iPad. "So, can I have confirmation of locations and models tomorrow? It's going on six and the crew is packing up to go. I need to head to the office and then I'm calling it a day."

Isabelle looked up from her perusing, acutely aware of the three other pairs of ears. "I'll be in the office early, let Joanne know. You'll be in tomorrow?"

Kurt looked up from his iPad and nodded, "I have class tomorrow afternoon from two. I can be at the offices at seven to make the confirmations."

Isabelle looked worried, "Don't you have class this evening?"

Kurt hummed, not even looking up, "I have rehearsals tonight for two hours from 8. I'll go straight there from the offices."

His boss sighed, "You're getting a low workload after this project. I need you to be at work at seven tomorrow morning."

Kurt looked up and smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow, Isabelle."

"Enjoy your rehearsals," Isabelle replied already turning back to the files, "and well done on getting the solo. Only freshman to have one for the year end recital, right?"

Kurt chuckled as he was ready to leave, "You scare me sometimes."

Isabelle hummed but Kurt could see the smirk on her lips, "You not the only one who pays attention to office gossip. What would be scare you is the fact I already have tickets, as do most of the office."

"Again, you're scary."

Kurt left, phone already out and talking. Isabelle chuckled to herself.

"Your assistant," Anna cut in from behind her papers, "is something else, Isabelle. So tell me why is he not in fashion or journalism but _performance_?"

"For the very reason why he is something else," Isabelle shot back, "he does what he want, what he's passionate about. For now, he enjoys working here. He's talented."

Anne smirked, "He's the one who made that make over video. He would be great at Vogue; your office or mine."

"You have a better chance at getting Alexander McQueen back from the dead," Isabelle bit back.

Marc was watching with amusement. The assistant in question had stared at him, wide eyed and the designer could recognise some of his clothing that the boy wore.

"We'll use all the locations, as well as these three," Seo Joon cut in as he offered a notepad with three names, "I would rather have too many shots than too few."

Isabelle took the page with a smile. "We'll have these booked first thing tomorrow."

"The models," Anne cut in, "you need to pick the models."

Marc moved forward to the table. "Who do we have booked?"

"These two, as main and these four as supplementary," Isabelle sighed as she put the files on a free space. For a moment, Isabelle grinned at the fact that all the files were colour coded. Red for the main models. Blue for the supplementary models. And green for the portfolios.

"Well," Marc spoke slowly as he opened the folders, "We have a male and female model. The supplementary are good. We need another male model for main."

Seo looked over the models but his face was blank. "What is the look you're are going for?" He posed the question to Marc.

The designer looked at the models in question. "Why are you questioning this?" The man side-eyed the young photographer.

"Because," Seo Joon smirked as he spoke, "none of these models fit the _vision_. None of them would look like wearing your clothing would be a dream come true."

"But," Marc prompted.

At this, Seo flipped the iPad he had practically surgically attached that day. One the screen was a crappy resolution but undeniable brilliant image. The figure was poised, head held high and dignified but a slight smile pulled his lips. He looked good; his clothes looked good. He looked natural; and even surrounded by people, he pulled focus.

"Do you always go around taking photos of assistants?" Isabelle asked as her brain finally caught up with who was the focus of the picture.

"When they show more potential than most models I've worked with," Seo bit back, his accented barely noticeable.

"He's young and good looking. He carries himself and the clothing well," Marc murmured. "Good proportions."

Seo grinned at Marc before looking to Isabelle with an expectant expression. "Well?"

-0-0-0-

The first thing Kurt noticed when he entered his workplace was the cup of coffee sitting on his desk. Then he noticed a guilty looking Isabelle.

The boy sighed as he put down his messenger bag – designer or course- on the table and picked up the cup.

"What do you need?"

Isabelle winced slightly at the blunt tone but smiled nonetheless. "I need you to model for us."

Kurt's eyes widened in shock but before he could open his mouth to argue the (ridiculous) statement, Isabelle cut him off.

"Seo Joon wants you as the main model and everyone else agrees. You fit the image we want. Plus, you will be paid what anyone we hired would have gotten plus a surplus for it being your first contract as a Vogue model. It's a lot of money, Kurt. You're gorgeous. And Seo Joon took some pictures of you yesterday, and they look fantastic. You're not a second choice. Please, _please_ to do this or the terrible three will be arguing over this next."

Kurt stared at her, jaw slacked.

Silently, Isabelle turned over her iPad with the photos Joon took the day before. Blue-green eyes stared at them in shock.

"These are really good, Kurt."

Kurt said nothing.

"I'd owe you a favour."

Kurt raised a hand to silence his boss as he stared at the pictures. His first reaction was that the man in the picture was not him. Then he felt vulnerable. This guy took photos of him without his consent. It made him sick. It was violating.

And then it there was the small voice that agreed with Isabelle because _damn he did look good. _

Isabelle silently handed over the file she had left on his desk. Kurt looked at it for a moment before opening it. Inside the folder was a modelling contract with Vogue and another contract for the Marc Jacobs project. And the sum of money offered was enough to cover his portion rent for a year. It was a lot of money. That he could really use…

'Shit, I'm actually thinking about this,' Kurt thought as he closed the file and sighed.

"Can I think about this?" Kurt asked quietly.

Isabelle nodded, "Sure, but I need those locations confirmed. It's in the orange file."

"Sure thing," Kurt replied, still staring at the file in hand.

The blond woman smiled slightly as she left the desk quietly. Most of the office knew about the offer already, because the only thing more effective than the wardrobe department is the gossip mill.

It took two hours, but the permits would be coming in by lunch and permission was granted thanks to Kurt and four interns who were sent running through New York to various offices with paper works.

That left just one problem: Kurt had to decide. The only thing left to do on the long list of bookings for the project was the models. Kurt sighed. There was only thing that Kurt could really do. He needed advice.

Swallowing, Kurt speed dialled the familiar number and listened to the ring tone.

"Hummel tire and lube, Rick speaking," came the voice. Kurt smiled at the familiar voice.

"Hey Uncle Rick, its Kurt." Kurt said of a beat. "Is my dad in? I need to speak to him."

"Kurt! How's are you doing?" Rick replied, his voice brightening. "Your dad's in the office. I'll put you through."

"I'm good," replied Kurt, "And is everything okay at the shop?"

"Yeah. We're actually busier than ever. Miss you helping out here though. We have this new apprentice but I swear you knew more about cars when you were ten," Rick laughed over the phone, before adding, "I'm connecting you now. He just got off the line. Chat to you soon, yeah?"

Before Kurt could reply, the ring tone was back. In a moment, Burt Hummel's voice came across the line.

"Hey dad," Kurt smiled into the phone. "How are you? Are you sticking to your diet?"

"Kurt!" the tone of his father's voice changed from professional to warmth immediately. "How are you? What's wrong?"

Kurt laughed, feeling the rush of warm feelings at hearing his father's voice, "Why do you think something's wrong?"

"Kurt," came the patient tone, "you're calling in the middle of the morning while you are supposed to be at work."

The boy flushed at the fact his father knew him better than he would care to admit. "I'm okay, dad. I just need some advice."

"Oh boy, sounds big."

Kurt sighed before launching into everything that was happening at his work and how he didn't know what to do.

"Bud, you've basically told me that this is one hell of an opportunity. So is really the problem here?"

Kurt swallowed. "I don't think I'm… good enough for this. I'm terrified of not being good enough. This is the biggest project Vogue has undertaken in a year. I mean, they need a model for one my idol's newest line."

The line went quiet. "Kurt, what is really going on? You have never thought you weren't good enough. You would argue that, over every other person, they wanted you. That you are good enough. So where is this coming from?"

Kurt sighed as he dropped his head into his free hand. Not caring about his hair for the first time in years, Kurt ran his hand through it. He didn't know how to put to words the thoughts that ran through his head.

"I…" Kurt stopped to take a deep breathe. Slowly, very slowly he let the words that had been playing on his brain over and over again. "How can _I _be good enough when my own boyfriend thought I wasn't good enough? How can I be better than any of those professional models because some photographer says so? My boyfriend didn't think I was good enough to stay loyal to; my boyfriend who I loved and loved me. So how can I feel anything but insignificant?"

"Oh Kurt…"

"And it hurts. Because I still love him, dad. I still see Blaine as one of the best things that's ever happened to me. And that's even after he cheated on me. How depressing is that?"

Burt sighed as he tiredly ran a hand over his face. It broke his heart to hear his son in pain but to hear him doubting himself after everything he's been through? He was starting to see that the break up between him and Blaine was deeper than just heartbreak of a first love. Even if Blaine was still trying to get his son back.

-0-0-0-

"Why?" Kurt asked the moment he through the door to Isabelle's office. "Why me? What makes me good enough? Why not just pick someone who has actually modelled before?"

Isabelle looked up from the file she was reading, dressed (Kurt noted that he missed it in the morning) in a stunning white Dior dress. She calmly put the file down and smiled at him.

"Because you are young and fresh and exactly what both Marc and Seo want to show in the spread. Because you are gorgeous. Because it's a damn good opportunity. And because I know you can do it, and do it better than anyone else I know personally. I wouldn't take a chance like this on anyone else in this office."

Kurt's face remained blank but his lips were pursed. He breathed out heavily. "Why do you think I can pull this off? This is international!"

"Because," and here Isabelle grinned, "you are a performer. You have what it takes, and if you got nervous, you know how to fake it."

Kurt had to laugh at that. "But, I refuse to go shirtless."

-0-0-0-

The shoot itself was nothing like what Kurt imagined it would be. He was used to being on the other side of the camera; doing the leg work of a PA. Being a model was harder than it seemed.

Everyone seemed to touch him: the mark up girls, wardrobe, even the Seo Joon. The lights were blinding and stronger than anything he faced while being on stage. And between Isabelle, Anna and Marc; Kurt felt like a Ken doll. It was awkward to stand around in his boxers feeling so exposed while the one site seamstress refitted the clothing.

The worst experience by far was the gossip. While the staff knew and liked him; the hired models were pissed. He was a 'no name wannabe' who 'stole' the spotlight as the main model. Something they had all being vying for after hearing of the two models who dropped out. Whilst the two other main models (Leah and Jean) were put out that they had been bumped down from main to supplementary.

The first day had been awkward as hell. Kurt felt awkward; just standing there. He didn't know what to do. Seo had sighed and put down his camera before he even took a photograph. Kurt felt himself flush at the snickers that resonated in the quiet of the first studio as he stood in front of the white back drop dressed in a stunning white-grey suit that he would sell his first born for.

"Kurt," the irritable man stated, not even blinking at the snickers, "relax."

Kurt broke out of his panic to level the man with a flat glare. Before the teen signed the contract, he had insisted that Isabelle call the terrible trio in to sit down and talk about this (insane) idea. Kurt had voiced his worries and they had all placated him with insurances that he would be fine. That they would help him. Especially when he confessed his worries over not knowing how to model.

"Kurt," Seo tried again, "how do you feel about wearing this suit? Would you want to wear it?"

"Wear it?" Kurt asked incredulously, "I'll trade my first born for it. It's _gorgeous_!"

"Then show that. The look of _feeling incredible because of what you are wearing_."

Kurt fell silent at that as he thought it over. Slowly, and silently, Seo went back to his position and picked up his cameras. He waited patiently as Kurt gathered himself.

It was like watching a transformation in front of him and it was fascinating to Seo. He watched at the awkwardly standing teen spread his legs and stood taller. His shoulders seemed broader as he held his head high and a smirk pulled his lips. His body automatically angled to show off the suit; one hand slipping in to the pants pocket. Confidence radiated from him; as if when he walked into a room all eyes would be on him.

Without a word, Seo started clicking away. 'Kid's a damn good performer,' he noted as Kurt changed his stance and everything about him screamed 'I'm _that_ good and I know it.' It was natural and all traces of nervousness was gone. Seo smirked behind his camera as he let the kid figure out how he wanted to look while he took the pictures.

Kurt's head space, was strangely enough, placed him back in high school. The feeling of wearing whatever he damn wanted because it looked good and he looked good. The feeling of 'you wished you looked this good' and the confidence he always wore his outfits with. And this was without the bullies.

It was a fantastic, and oddly therapeutic, feeling.

Looking directly at the camera, Kurt knew he had to sell it. He had to sell the outfit. It was one thing to look good; but it was something entirely else to make someone else want it. Faking the confidence was easy.

Seo grinned as Kurt moved and the Korean knew that this was the photograph. The boy, his eyes shining blue and a playful smirk pulling on naturally pink lips, relaxed his stance as he pulled at the knot of his tie. His head tilted into the opposite side, showing off his (gorgeous) cheekbones but the action itself drew attention to his suit.

Relaxed. Confident. Powerful. Hot and sexy. And dressed to impress.

That was the photo Seo wanted and took it with a smug feeling. This was going to be one hell of a project.

"Can I get something a little bit playful?" Seo called out with his eye glue to his camera. He was still clicking away when Kurt raised an eyebrow at him. "Something less mature."

Kurt's smirk turned into a smile as his body moved in an old but familiar movement. His hands moved to undo his blazer buttons as he side stepped. As he finished the box step, Kurt grabbed onto the lapels of the suit and grinned. In one smooth movement, Kurt did the infamous Warbler step-spin.

Seo barely blinked at he kept on clicking. "Please do that again." He needed more shots.

Kurt's grin grew slightly as he relented, redoing the box step he could to in his sleep and the spin. He refused to think about a certain ex-Warbler that practically patented the move.

Seo Joon finally tore his eye from the camera viewer and handed the camera to his assistant.

"Touch up on make-up. I want the two female models. Wardrobe, change the male models into the black suits with bow ties," Seo called out as his assistant uploaded the pictures from his camera. Marc was already hovering behind the man, trying to peak at the shots.

Kurt looked at the man, surprise clearly written on his face.

"That was good, Kurt," Seo added as he checked the laptop, "We are going to use some of these; we just need a variety."

"That was okay?"

It was Marc who laughed before waving him over, "Very good. Come and see for yourself."

Kurt couldn't quite believe the man staring back at him through the screen was him. He was sexy. It inflated his deflating ego. He looked good. Really good.

The rest of that studio's shoot went really well. Kurt didn't feel so out of place in front of the camera after the first round. He just pretended he was on stage. Although, things weren't as relaxed when he had to model with the two female models who were groping him as per instructions. But on the up side, groping someone who wasn't interested seemed to break the ice between them and the one model, Freya actually warmed up to him. She was the one he had to grope in what was a pseudo-tango pose with his hand disappearing under the slit of her dress high on her thigh. He had apologised profusely for that. She had laughed it off saying she had been through worse, and then loudly mused if she could feel him up next.

The shoot with the male models was distinctly more awkward. And for once, it was not over his sexuality but the fact he (a rookie) was the main model. Kurt was positioned between Jean and Lucas, his white standing out even more against their black suits. It was more of a traditional photograph where they all stood posing. Then they were positioned in a runway-esque pose and Seo Joon happily clicked away. Kurt did his best to hide the sheer awkwardness he felt next to the two tall and handsome men.

They needed to shoot four outfits in this studio before moving on. Kurt knew he had to model close to fifty outfits over several locations. For the first time since signing the contract, he was starting to believe that maybe, just maybe, he could do this.

-0-0-0-

The shoot lasted a little over four weeks. Kurt felt a little guilty for it taking longer because he had to attend class. Seo had assured him that it was actually a good thing because they could edit the photographs and check if they needed to redo a location or outfit.

Marc was suitable impressed with the way Kurt carried his clothing: everything from business to casual suave.

Isabelle and Anna duked it out over the spreads that would appear in their publications.

And it seemed that the amount Kurt was to be paid had changed after reviewing the shoot. He was to be paid _more _due to the increased length and size of the project. Kurt had enough money for a whole year of fees for NYADA and a little bit left over. He had to double check with Isabelle that no one made a mistake in quoting the figure.

Strangely, Santana was his biggest supporter when he told his flatmates. Rachel had stared at him for a moment before congratulating. Which, directly after, started asking if it was a good idea considering he just started NYADA that semester.

"Cool it, Limelight," Santana bit back, cutting Rachel off, "this is one hell of an opportunity. Kurt's getting his face out there; plus its good money."

"It'll be fine, Rachel," Kurt added, still slightly dazed at the fact he was modelling for _Marc Jacobs!_ "All the shoots will be done during what would have been my normal working hours. In fact, I will have a lighter workload now that I'm not part of organising the shoot."

It took a few days for Kurt to figure out that Rachel was a tad _jealous_ at his modelling gig, even though she was trying to get over it. She was bitter, as Santana put it, because 'unlike you Porcelain, the only way she will land a modelling gig is after she makes it big.'

Santana had been oddly tactful about the whole situation. Santana from high school would have been blunt as hell. The Latina had asked if how she could apply for a modelling position. She was taking night classes in drama and dance; while searching for auditions from everything from commercials to plays. She had a few gigs around where she sang at night. Modelling seemed to be added to her repertoire.

Kurt had merely got the information from the modelling department and handed Santana the forms she would have to fill in and the requirements for her portfolio.

Apart from his dad and his flatmates, Kurt didn't tell people that he was a model. It seemed so awkward. Sure, Carole and Finn knew from his dad but it wasn't anything he advertised about himself. He went around being the part time vogue dot com employee and full time NYADA student. His notoriety at NYADA grew after beating 'Golden Girl Rachel Berry' at the midnight sing off. Not that Kurt cared beyond the boost to his ego. And how he dated and dumped the senior student Adam Crawford. Being a countertenor and a soloist also 'helped'.

No, Kurt stayed out of the gossip mill as much as possible. He took the praise and criticism from his teachers. He practiced hard and did his homework. Because, honestly, he didn't have time or energy to do much more. Despite what he had told Rachel, Kurt was putting in more hours than usual at Vogue. He felt bad that he was delaying the whole shooting because he wasn't a full time model.

In the end, the conclusion of the project wasn't anything big. The editing department was in overdrive and Kurt took his much due vacation times. And just in time too. He had less than a week for the concert and his big solo. He finally had the time to throw himself into that; although the limits of Rachel's maturity seemed to have reached its limit. She was angry that's he wasn't offered a solo (Kurt was the sole first year solo) and had turned that anger into pointing out Kurt's mistakes. She kept offering, as the date drew closer, to take over the 'stress of the solo' from him.

Kurt's life was busy enough with NYADA's workload and year end tests and the few hours of work he squeezed around that. And the vocals teacher Mr Hardison was trying to get Kurt to add another major onto his performance major for the next year. The man was practically begging him to train his voice for opera as well. He was even willing to get a Julliard professor to take his vocals training for the course as NYADA didn't have one. Kurt wasn't so sure he wanted to do opera let alone the amount of extra work it would add. But it would be amazing training for his vocals. He had an appointment with Hardison the day after exams were finished.

Instead, Kurt threw himself into his school work. His solo was ready and perfect. He would be singing a pop song, which wasn't usually in his repertoire but his range allowed Mc Allens to (finally) get a student to do a cover of this song. It was Adam Lambert's 'Aftermath', which pushed Kurt's voice from his lower register to his upper register in one breathe. It was exhilarating and showed him just how his lung capacity was lacking. It was strange to hear his own voice, instead of the more delicate tone he was projecting _strength_. Kurt was belting. And damn, he felt smug about that.

The exams came and went with little flair. It involved some tempers flare and lots of coffee, but it ended with little drama. Santana landed a modelling gig for a small chain store. She bitched about the teenybopper clothing she had to wear and smile even while the asshole groped her ass. Rachel was a whirlwind as she tried to practice 24/7 for her practical exams. She didn't apologise for any of her words or actions regarding Kurt's solo, but she did throw herself into the chorus piece the freshman's were doing at the year-end concert.

Kurt, after vegetating for a day as a post exam celebration, met with Mr Hardison. The man was in his mid-forties and always had a smile on his face. The man welcomed Kurt into his office with said smile.

"Take a seat, Mr Hummel," Cole Hardison said as he closed his door. People had a tendency to come in if the door was open and he couldn't let that happen. He was a man on a mission.

Kurt sat down in one of the two chairs in front of the desk and waited.

Hardison took his seat and opened the file on his desk. Green eyes looked up and smiled at Kurt.

"Don't look for nervous Mr Hummel, you're not in trouble," he said dryly. Kurt chuckled but relaxed slightly.

"So," the teacher continued, "you are currently a performance major with a minor in costume design and dance. That's quite a busy workload. Do you have a part time job as well? Are you auditioning?"

Kurt blinked at the question before he answered, "I work as PA part time. And I only audition for roles when I can make the actual audition. We keep a calendar of audition dates, times and roles at the flat. My flatmates are performers too."

Hardison sighed, "Then you don't have much time to take a heavier workload." He paused and looked Kurt in the eye.

"You have to understand, Mr Hummel, how rare your voice is. Most countertenors don't last nor do they have your large range. There will not be a demand for your voice on Broadway. It doesn't fit the classic tenor directors and casting directors like. But I can guarantee that with extra training you can graduate and get at least four job offers in operatic productions based solely on your voice. That is why I recommended you pick up a classical vocals as a major. It's the basics of training for opera theatre."

Kurt sighed as he closed his eyes. He hated this. He hated people taking one look at him (or in this, one listen to his voice) and placing limitation on him. And here was yet another teacher who was telling him he couldn't do it. And that stung like hell.

"So I should change my major," Kurt said emotionlessly. He suddenly felt the old bone deep tiredness. He was once again building his walls.

"No," Hardison said plainly. Kurt looked at him, slightly shocked. "Kurt, I'm not saying you can't make it on Broadway, in fact, I think you would carve your own niche because your vocal range is so large and diverse. You've improved a lot in six months. I feel, as your academic advisor, that you should use the uniqueness of your voice. You need, at the very least, basic classical vocal training. It would only add to your resume."

Kurt merely sighed as he nodded. He knew it would be a good idea but he just didn't have the time. He needed his job to pay rent. Sure his dad gave him money each month but Kurt would like to be financially independent from his father. It was good fall-back fund. Taking another major would mean he would not be able to work; which meant no rent money. Kurt had a trust fund for his college fees; money his dad had put away and a large portion of his mother's life insurance pay out. But financially, Kurt was set at the moment.

The money from the Jacob's project had Kurt ready to make a year's worth of school fees and six months of rent. He could take less hours at work next year to pick up the extra course and pay the difference from his savings. But he was already working fewer hours than any other PA and Isabelle wouldn't be able to keep him on. He would have get a new job and somehow try and save for the next year.

Kurt winced though. He really liked that he had a huge safety fund. He had been planning on paying his fees for the coming year and saving the let over. He would have kept working for his rent and budget. A year's worth of fees would go a long way in making his college fund last longer.

"I could take one courses more each semester," Kurt admitted. It would mean that he would have to spend his weekends to bring his hours up at work and little to no time off. But he could do it.

Cole Hardison nodded but pulled out a booklet. He opened to an earmarked page, "You're biggest problem is the lack of time, right?"

Kurt nodded.

"What are your summer plans? Because you can take six courses during the summer. 3 of your current courses and you can pick up 3 classical courses," the teacher added.

"It would mean that I could pick up the extra major along with my current courses and not lose too much time. But no summer holidays."

"Exactly."

Hardison was looking at Kurt expectant. Kurt was thinking it through. It was a good idea. He could pay for the courses himself so it wasn't a problem financially. But it meant no summer holiday. He would only have two weeks of vacation before class started again. That would be the only time he could visit his dad. And after the cancer scare, Kurt had wanted to spend more time at home. On the other hand, Blaine was in Lima. And he would be coming to New York during the summer. Despite still being 'broken up', they were still friends.

"I'll need to speak with my dad, but it sounds like a good idea," Kurt admitted. The man just smiled at him and gave him the deadline for summer courses registration.

-0-0-0-

The year-end concert went near perfectly. There was an issue with the sound during a junior number were a microphone wasn't turned on in time for the solo. The performances were a range from theatre to pop music. It was a good mix, but only seniors were allowed to perform Broadway-esque songs. Rumour is that there were scouts and casting directors sitting in the audience.

The freshman number was a chorus line of Britney Spears mash-up. It was rather fun but the dancing was what took long to get down. And it was good introduction for Kurt's solo.

Rather than a whole cast of dancers, there were six dancer major juniors who were backing him up. It was a toned down but cohesive routine. For Kurt, the song's lyrics held a special meaning. Hardison said he had a gift for carrying the emotion through a song; and that was what he aimed to do. He had song the song so many times he could do it in his sleep.

Kurt's voice had soared over the music and dropped into his lower register. It was good, or so Kurt thought. Adam Lambert's voice was one in a million but he thought he did the song justice. The applause at the end seemed to agree with him.

Kurt was flushed when he stepped off stage. The few people he spoke to rushed to congratulate him when he stepped into the green room. Many had no idea how deep his voice could go. But the greatest surprise was the group waiting for him after the concert.

Carole, Finn and Burt were waiting for Kurt, along with a handful of his co-workers from Vogue. Isabelle was there as well, dressed to the nines and holding a bunch of flowers.

-0-0-0-

Kurt went back to Lima for his two weeks of vacation before his summer semester at NYADA. Isabelle had given him time off on the basis he would have to pick up the time when he was in New York again. She had also handed him another envelope with another large check, apparently he got paid extra for the Advertisement portion of the project. As well as an offer from Marc Jacobs to be a model on the runway at his show in a little over a month's time. And that quoted figure was a little ridiculous.

Rather, he was back home. And dealing with an ex-boyfriend who was starting to be more of a boyfriend. Blaine had applied and made it into NYADA and NYU for music. Kurt always knew he would make it. If nothing else, Blaine was talented. He just didn't know if he wanted to go into Broadway or just music. Tina and Artie graduated as well. Artie was going to LA to attend film school; he would be sharing a flat with Mercedes. Tina got into Parsons for fashion design. She, Sam and Blaine were going to rent another flat in the same building as Kurt, Rachel and Santana. Brittany was at MIT already. It seemed sad to see the last of the First generation New Directions move on. And all that was left at the old high school were photographs and trophies.

Kurt fell into a pattern of meeting up with old friends who were on their long summer vacation. He was berated more than once for spending his summer studying rather than staying in Lima. Although there was much ribbing for beating out Rachel for a solo at the concert.

In fact, the whole modelling experience had been forgotten in the rush of seeing everyone again. It only hot him during his second week in Lima when Isabelle called to give him a heads up. They were running the photo spread in the next issue.

And suddenly, Kurt was very nervous.

-0-0-0-

Kurt knew they had to have this talk, no matter how awkward or unwanted. They had to sort out the mess that was their relationship, something that was a tangled mess of love, friendship, hormones and trust. And lack of trust.

The brunet sighed as he sipped his usual coffee. He was early, and he took their usual seat at the Lima Bean. He knew they had to talk. Blaine was coming to New York after a summer abroad with his family. The Andersons were trying. His mum was supportive, Cooper was more attentive and his father was finally coming around. It was something the man realise after being introduced to Blaine's boyfriend's father. Kurt had to smirk at that. There was a reason why Burt Hummel was a successful politician.

No, but they had to talk about them. About everything. And it was going to be hard.

It was heart wrenchingly adorable when Blaine stopped at the table, eyes wide as he checked the time on his pocket watch, looking horrified at the thought of being _late._

"I came here early," Kurt cut in the apology on Blaine's lips, "I needed to get out of the house for a bit. Dad's trying to guilt trip me into staying the whole holidays."

"Oh," Blaine says, slightly confused but sits down anyways. Kurt resists the urge to giggle. Sometimes Blaine is more puppy-like than the dapper gentleman he is.

Kurt rolls his eyes as he stands, and half-asks "Your usual?" It's quite ridiculous. Blaine doesn't drink anything else.

"Oh! Wait, let me," the newly graduated senior tries, and fails to buy the round of drinks. Instead, he wisely sits down at the look Kurt throws at him.

Kurt returned with the two drinks and sat down. The table descended into a slightly awkward silence. Neither boy knew how to begin on anything they had to talk about.

So much had happened in the last year. NYADA, New York, the distance and the miscommunications. It piled up and eventually broke them. But it didn't break them. It broke the trust but not the comfort. If anything, the almost wedding showed that. No matter what happened, no matter who caught his eye in New York; Blaine made Kurt's heart skip a beat.

"It's been on hell of a year," Kurt eventually gets out and winces at the connotations at his statement. He quickly adds, "Do you know which college you want to go to?"

Blaine's been tense since he sat down. His world had been a roller-coaster of note this last year. He will admit he messed up, even if he had his reasons. There were some really bad choices made, and some regrets. The end of Klaine seemed like the beginning of a downward spiral. They lost Finn, came second at Nationals and Glee was shut down. Sure, he salvaged some sort of friendship with Kurt, but there was no sign of any chance of them getting back together. And letting go of his first love was his biggest regret.

"New York, NYU actually," Blaine admitted after a beat.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Not NYADA? I know you got in."

Blaine shook his head, sighing as he stared at his coffee, "I love musicals but I think I want to go into music production and performance majors. NYU is a better choice."

Blaine didn't know how Kurt would react to that, especially after the pep talk the other boy had given him before his NYADA audition.

Kurt chuckled as he watched Blaine, sipping his grande non-fat mocha, "You were always more Top 40s even if you are obsessed with Disney." And he smiled. An honest smile.

Blaine let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. "You always zig."

Kurt dropped his gaze from the honey-hazel eyes after a moment. He knew that look; it was Blaine's 'I so in love with you, how on Earth did I get you?' look. And it still broke his heart slightly.

"Dad's rented an apartment in Bushwick; Rachel emailed me when one in your complex opened up. Sam's moving with me. He's going to NYU for Art and Tina is going to Parsons for fashion," Blaine blurted out. He couldn't stand the awkward silence that descended. It didn't make sense, they didn't have awkward silences between them.

Kurt smiled at that, enthused by how the more of their friends were heading to New York.

And they talked. About how everything fell apart, skirting around the actual cheating. Blaine apologised yet again but bit back the pleading to start again. Kurt sighed as he had to admit his part in the break up. He had pulled away, be it consciously or not, by work and he should have noticed. Blaine talked more about his senior year, admitting to details he left out over the phone. Seeing Kurt in person seemed to break away the barriers and he could admit that he was still in love with Kurt.

Kurt paused at that and sighed. The heavy sound broke Blaine's heart, just a little. Kurt admitted his feelings, the ones he forced himself to sort out after weeks of confusion. "I still love you Blaine, but our break up hurt. It broke my trust and, honestly, a good part of my self-confidence. Adam and I were each other's rebound but even then. I just felt like I wasn't enough. Like I wouldn't ever be enough."

-0-0-0-

So, it's ending here. If I write anymore, this is going to go one forever. I was thinking of maybe posting individual reactions for each chapter after this? Or should I quit while I'm ahead?

-Amira


	2. Run This Way

Cover

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. Trust me, things would have been very different if I did. I don't own Seo Joon from Love Rain or Miranda Presley from Devil Wears Prada or Marc Jacobs. In fact, I own nothing but the insanity that lives in my mind. And even that is iffy.

Summary: When everything for a photo-shoot goes wrong, leaving an irate Anna Wintour and a diva photographer Seo Joon, Isabelle Wright needs her best to fix the problem. Kurt Hummel, part time PA, has to save the day. Kurt is Vogue's newest, and hottest, model. Watch out world. AU-ish Klaine. Kurt-centric.

Seo Joon is from the Korean drama Love Rain, (I love JGS) who is an arrogant but talented photographer.

I must give thanks to the manga _The One by Lee Nicky_ for inspiration for the modelling part of this story. I used a lot of scenes from that manga because I know nothing about fashion, shoots or modelling.

Boo (my Glee plot bunny) attacked me again. He seems to like Kurtana friendship. And growls at Rachel Berry. He then mutated what should have been 5000 words max into 20000 plus words. It's split into two chapters. Maybe three. Again, blame Boo.

Chapter 2: Run This Way

-0-0-0-

Blaine just looked at Kurt after his admission. He took a moment to really look and _see_ Kurt; the changes that occurred in their year apart. He was more beautiful; taller too. He was more comfortable in his own skin, and yet, more vulnerable. Stronger yet more fragile and Blaine just knew that was his fault.

"I love you," Blaine murmured, hands wrapped around his cup, "I always have. There hasn't been a minute where I haven't loved you. You are more than enough. I just, I thought you were done with me. I thought I had lost you. Just look me in the eyes. I will never, ever cheat on you again."

Kurt smiled slightly at that. It was strangely ironic that Blaine loving him made everything hurt all the more. Blaine loved him and still cheated. If Blaine still loves him; then what was there to stop him from cheating again? Kurt was scratching around his heart to gather up the courage to trust him again. No matter how much he loved him.

'_Courage',_ Kurt mused as he stared at the man he loved.

"So where does this leave us?" Kurt finally voiced the unspoken question. Blaine's head shot up to meet his eyes. The hopeful expression on his face made Kurt suppress a smile. Blaine always wore his heart on his sleeve and his mind on his face.

Blaine took half a heartbeat to compose himself as he tried to find the right words. 'If this is my only chance…'

"I would," Blaine swallowed before trying again, his words coming out stronger. "I would do anything to get another chance, Kurt. I want there to be an '_us' _again. Please, can we be boyfriends again? That there is a chance…"

Kurt couldn't even consider considering his reply, it fell from his lips like an admission, "Me too."

In that moment, Kurt laid it all bare. He told Blaine of his loneliness, how Rachel abandoned him at NYADA. Being the youngest at work and the general bitchiness of Vogue. He spoke about how he didn't want to worry Blaine, worry his father. New York was his dream but it was a scary place when you were alone.

"You're leaving on vacation soon," Kurt added. Unsure of how to breach the topic of actually getting back together. He knew some people would think it was foolish to trust a guy who had cheated on him but this was _Blaine._

"And you're going back to New York for summer classes," Blaine added. He sighed. This was more difficult and heart stopping nervous than the first time.

Blaine winced at that. 'If I had not messed up then I wouldn't have had to ask him out again.'

"We could," Kurt licked his lips as he stumbled through his words, "start again. Talk more. I mean, you are coming to New York. We would only be apart for the summer."

Blaine sat up at that, his eyes gleaming. "Yes! I mean, we should definitely try again. We can email, and Skype and call. I'll be back three weeks before the semester starts. I mean, I moving into the same building as you and NYU is not that far from NYADA. We could find a coffee place nearby and even cook dinner together and…"

Blaine promptly shut his mouth when he realised he was rambling. Kurt just sat there, trying to avoid eye contact.

And the awkward silence fell between them.

"This is ridiculous," Kurt finally said, unable to stand the awkwardness. He gestured at the space between them. "Since when are we like this?"

Blaine shrugged and chuckled nervously, "I just really don't want to mess this up."

Kurt sent his a flat look, "Okay, we need to get this out now. We are doing this again. It means a clean slate; both of us."

Blaine smiled at that, and he reached for Kurt's hand across the table. The gesture was so familiar and yet, it made his heart flutter at the warmth from Kurt's hand as he turned his hand so their palms were pressed against each one another.

"Okay," Blaine replied, eyes locked on blue ones, "we start again. Thank you. I love being your best friend but I _missed being with you_."

And with that, Blaine raised the hand to his lips and placed a light kiss on the inside of Kurt's wrist. Kurt flushed at the simple yet completely Blaine gesture; his fingers softly stroking the part of Blaine's face he could reach.

"Me too," Kurt murmured, as he finally allowed himself to really look into Blaine's eye without feeling guilty. "I was hurt but I never stopped loving you. I guess I just needed time."

Blaine smiled, bright and big. Like Kurt had handed him the world.

Kurt floundered for a moment before he immediately swopped topics. "So, what is your itinerary for your European getaway?"

Blaine's smile stayed as he sat up straighter, his fingers running over Kurt's. "Cooper got a part in a series so he can't come. But Mum insisted we go to London and Paris. We'll go around France first: Nice and then Paris. Then we'll go to London. We'll be staying with my grandparents. The accepting ones. Mum demanded we stay for Fashion Week. I think we are going to Milan, Venice, Amsterdam and a trip to the Alp's before coming back."

Kurt hummed as he grinned, "Fashion Week in London, huh?"

Blaine looked sheepish, "We are spending most of our time in London. I haven't seen my grandparents in three years. Their dad's parents but it was mum who insisted. And you know how she loves fashion. I blame her for my obsession with Vogue."

Kurt grinned at that. "Well, you know how I've been working on this 'secret' Vogue project that I couldn't tell you anything about under pain of death by Isabelle and Anna?"

"Yes," Blaine replied as he looked curious, "You told Santana and Rachel but couldn't tell without signing a confidentiality contract first."

Kurt's smiled grew bigger as he checked his phone. It could work. He would miss four days of summer school but Isabelle said she would help with practice.

"What if I said that project means I'll be in London for Fashion Week?" Kurt said quickly, excitement building. He froze for half a second before adding, "I mean, we could meet up if you want. Not that I'm forcing you because you will be with your family and all. I just thought that since we'll be in the same place we could-"

"Kurt!" Blaine cut the ramblings as he stared at Kurt with wide eyes, "you're going to be in London?"

Kurt nodded, biting his lip as Blaine's smile grew.

"I would love to show you around London. I spent most of my summers over there! And if you're not too busy, maybe we can catch a runway show?" Blaine said, enthused. "Actually, you have to have dinner with my family. My mum misses you and I'm pretty sure my grandmother will disown me if she finds out you were in the country and I didn't bring you over."

Kurt froze at that, and had to ask, "Your grandmother?"

Blaine blushed at that, "My grandmother Katherine. We are pretty close and when she phoned, I told her about you."

Kurt blushed at that, ducking his head to hide the grin in his lips.

"Can you tell me anything about this project now?" Blaine asked, changing the topic slightly.

Kurt looked at him with a smirk, "Actually I can since everything has been finalised so to speak."

Blaine quirked at eyebrow at that.

Kurt leant forward, excitement flushed on his face, "It's kind of crazy and completely insane idea but it turned out pretty good and I earn enough that rent and fees are not a problem for a while. Plus it was a good experience."

Blaine blinked at that while Kurt stopped for a moment to take a breath. His eyes were shinning and Blaine had to smile softly at that.

"I'm the main model for Marc Jacobs' new collection. We did the photo shoot and advertisement spread as a collaboration between Vogue and Vogue dot com. I'm flying to London for the runway show."

Blaine froze in shock. 'Wait… what?!'

It took half a second for Blaine's brain to process what his newly dubbed boyfriend said. His jaw dropped and stared wide eyed at a smirking Kurt. A Kurt who suddenly seemed so much more centred and confident.

"You what?" Blaine stuttered out the question as he tried to wrap his mind around the news. Marc Jacobs, a man they both worship. Kurt, was a model for him? Brain function stopped and rebooted at the mental images of Kurt modelling.

'Actually,' Blaine mused as he really looked at Kurt, 'it makes sense. He's tall and gorgeous and beautiful and when he walks into a room people stare. I mean, miles of pale perfect skin, wide glazs eyes and those cheekbones…'

Kurt took a deep breathe to calm himself at the fluttering of absolute pride of what he did, what he was chosen for.

"The project we were working on," Kurt explained, "was a huge project between Vogue, Vogue dot com and Marc Jacobs. It was an exclusive spread and advertisement campaign. Seo Joon was the photographer. But the whole thing was a nightmare. Everything went wrong Blaine! We lost sites, luggage, _models. _And the terrible trio couldn't agree on anything!"

"Terrible trio?" Blaine had to ask as he stared wide eyed at the information being presented to him.

"Anna Wintour, Seo Joon and Marc Jacobs," Kurt answered before continuing," So when they finally got their act together Seo Joon got the crazy idea to use me as the replacement main model. He got Marc Jacobs to agree and then beat Anna into submission. Isabelle made me an offer I would have been crazy to turn down. I mean, I own a lot of Marc Jacobs clothing now and the pay was ridiculous."

Blaine blinked before he tried to articulate words. He started at the basics. "You met Marc Jacobs?"

Kurt laughed at that, blushing. "I gaped at him before proclaiming my love for him and his work. He was me he was taken though flattered."

Blaine chuckled unbelievingly at that. "Isabelle got you to work as her PA on such a major project? Kurt, that is amazing!"

The brunette blushed at that as he ducked his head, "I'm now technically a PA and part time Vogue model."

"So, wait. This photographer saw you and picked you?" Blaine asked quickly, leaning forward, intrigued beyond words.

Kurt nodded eagerly. "I was running around trying to find replacement models and balancing my solo from NYADA. I come into work the next day and Isabelle tells me I'm the new model. They said I really fit how they wanted to sell the clothing."

"You're amazing," Blaine blurted out. "I mean, you've always been beautiful and amazing but this is incredible!"

Kurt grinned as he squeezed Blaine's hand lightly, "Well, your boyfriend is now the main face of the new line that will in Vogue, Vogue dot com and in the advertisements. I'll be in London for the runway show. Marc specifically asked that I participate."

And then he laughed at the ridiculously shocked face his boyfriend had.

Blaine could only stare at the boy in front of him. A boy that had been beaten down for how he looked, how he stood out and now the world wanted to see him for what Ohio had hated. The amazing boy who agreed to date him, again. His boyfriend.

Kurt enjoyed the shocked look, not because it was such a shock that he was good enough to be a model. No, Kurt could see the absolute pride and love on Blaine's face. No, the shock that this whole experience was crazy.

"You realise I need tickets to that show," Blaine said still stunned and so damn proud, "because I will gate crash and end up in a British jail because there is no way I'm miss you model."

Kurt smiled at the faith and it helped beat down the uncertainty that kept fluttering about in his mind. "One for your mum too?"

Blaine gave him a flat look, "She would lock me in the basement and take my ticket."

Kurt laughed at that, loud and free. Blaine just looked at the beautiful boy in front of him. A part of him winced that the whole world was going to see it. See what he had seen in his sophomore year. And he couldn't keep Kurt his secret; his little piece of heaven on earth.

'Who am I kidding,' Blaine laughed mentally, 'he's going to shine so much more than anyone. And I get to see the world realise that.'

"Oh god," Blaine said suddenly. Kurt stopped short and looked at him worried. Blaine stared at him wide eyed. "I'm dating a model."

Kurt really wanted to hit that smug smile off Blaine's face. But he was too damn smug himself.

'Huh, I'm a model.'

-0-0-0-

Kurt got back to New York and hit the ground running. He was back at NYADA for four full time courses. He opted to take his new dance class, classical vocals and two theoretical courses. It would free up a lot of him his time in the upcoming year, meaning he could take those extra modules.

Hardison organised, for which Kurt strongly suspects blackmail was involved, because his classical vocal coach for the summer and beyond was Professor Austen Wren from Julliard. There was the awkward star struck moment when Kurt walked into his allocated practice room but it seemed that Professor Wren was genuinely happy to be working with a countertenor, even though he had to come to NYADA to teach him. He often commented how Kurt should be at Julliard and not NYADA because 'Broadway will not appreciate your voice' which drove Kurt up the wall.

Before leaving Lima, Kurt had also phoned and informed Isabelle that he would do the runway show. She promised she would have some of the Vogue dot com models and managers help him with getting ready.

Which meant, over and above the hours he put in as a PA, Kurt was leaning how to walk. Practice, practice, practice.

Isabelle sat through some of those practices, adding her own comments. Whilst Kurt had a fantastic posture, he lacked the finesse of gliding down the runway with the correct attitude. Considering that he had no experience modelling, they said he was doing a good job. But Kurt refused to be just good.

Kurt finished off his NYADA work and he forced himself to practice in their apartment. Rachel chose to stay in Lima for an extra week before she would be returning to New York. Like Santana, they were going to work and audition their summer away. Rachel had a calendar of all the auditions scheduled for the summer on the fridge. Even as she waited for the final call for Funny Girl, she would keep auditioning, if only for the experience.

Santana, on the other hand, hadn't gone back home to visit. Her mother came to New York but her family was stilled strained over her sexuality and public outing. Rather, she got a few modelling jobs and was now a regular singer at a bar. She still worked at the diner. She had also gotten Rachel a job there.

Said Latina was watching television while lying on the couch.

Kurt sighed as he looked around his 'room'. There simply was not enough space. Kurt bit his lip. He couldn't move his full length mirror but he couldn't walk with watching himself to see any errors.

"Okay, Porcelain," Santana's voice cut through the curtained barrier, "your sighing is not only annoying but far more interesting that the shit that's playing right now. What's wrong, powder puff? Hobbit got you sexually tense?"

Kurt bit back a groan as Santana's crass, but she was an ally against the insanity that was Rachel Berry. It was strange, but Santana was the better friend of the two. Sure she insulted you; but she insulted everyone. When it all boils down, if you were her friend, she had your back. And that was a comforting thought in any situation.

Kurt pushed the curtained door open only to be met with the frowning Latina.

"Spill, Hummel. Cos I can't eat any of my 'veg out in front of the tv' food. The prissy manager will kill me if I gain any weight."

He sighed as he stepped past her to get a glass of water.

"I don't think I can do this runway show," Kurt admitted. "I just can't get the walk down."

Santana gave him a blank look.

"I look so awkward and every other model at _London Fashion Week_ is a damn professional. I'm going to look like a waddling baby penguin next to them."

Santana's lips were pulled into a smirk, "Well, I know you're not a baby penguin. Hobbit screamed and made you scream when he dropped by in between his flights before flying to Europe. And I do mean scream."

Kurt blushed and gaped at her, "What?! You were not here! You left!"

Santana shrugged, "I came back. Heard you hit notes your new professor would love."

Kurt groaned. "I can't even… Santana!"

Santana shrugged but her gaze softened. "It's awesome that you two are back together. Everyone knew that the two of you would be the couple that made it. Brit says Blaine was a mess last year. I know you were too."

Kurt just looked at her, slightly shocked but grateful. Rachel had called him crazy to take Blaine back. His dad had understood. And so did Santana it seemed.

"You two are happy. Plus you make hot porn."

"Santana!"

Kurt put down the glass of water, face red as a tomato.

"Okay!" Santana waved a hand at him, "calm your pants. Hobbit is across an ocean so no getting excited. Now what's this about not being able to walk?"

Kurt groaned and just drank his water. Santana stared at him before moving across the room. She grabbed two coats.

"Come on," she said, offering the light coat, "let go and practice your walk."

Kurt stared at her confused.

"There's no space in here. I know you know this because of your groaning. I thought you were getting some disappointing Skype sex with Frodo."

Santana huffed before dropping the coat on the table so she could put hers on.

"Listen, if there is one thing I know it that you know how to strut. I guess we just got to figure out how to make that into a runway strut."

"It's late."

"Then we'll go to NYADA. They got a shit load of practice rooms," Santana huffed. "Come one Hummel, let's go! Or I'm going to attack those biscuits and my manager will kill me."

Kurt took a deep breath and put on the coat. They grabbed their wallets and keys and made their way to NYADA.

"God no one sleeps at this crazy place," Santana muttered as they searched for an empty practice room. The first three had been taken, in the summer holidays.

They claimed the fourth room. Santana dropped her coat on a chair along with Kurt. They stood there awkwardly before Santana shooed him to the back of the room, facing the mirror.

Kurt breathed deeply before trying to walk like Celine taught him. _Head up, back straight. Chest out. Straight steps and don't look at the floor! Walk with your hips!_

"What the fuck was that?" Santana spluttered as Kurt finished the short runway route. "You walked like you just spent a week being nailed by Anderson."

Kurt flushed at the thought but glared at her. "That's how they told me to walk."

Santana glared back. "Well it's not fucking working. They want you to look like you did in the shoot, right? So why not do the same thing?"

Kurt breathed out harshly though his nose.

"Okay, look," Santana said slowly, obviously trying to be patient. "For one, you're way too stiff. You look like you're in pain. You have the posture already. You know how to walk and keep all eyes on you. You strutted down McKinley every damn day you were there. The jocks called you the Ice Queen."

Kurt glared at that. Santana waved her hand.

"Wait, just ignore the homophobic shit for a second. Kurt, when you walked down the corridor, even the Cheerios noticed. You owned you style and you were unafraid what people may say. You were untouchable. Couple that with the Cheerio confidence and your own diva, you have a strut." Santana finished. She stared at him.

Kurt froze. She was right, in some way. Slowly, he said, "I imagined, when I was doing the photo shoot, that feeling back at school. Of wearing what I wanted and I knew I looked good."

Santana snorted. "So use that. Work it."

And with that she moved across the room to connect her iPod to the sound system in the room.

The music blasted through the empty room as Santana cranked it up. She walked over to join him, facing the music.

"_So I got my boots on_

_Got the right amount of leather_

_And I doing me up with a black coloured liner."_

"Adam Lambert?" Kurt asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Work it," Santana threw back.

Kurt faced forward and raised his head. Shoulders back. Eyes fluttered closed and let the music wash over him.

Exhale. And walk.

Kurt kept his eyes on his reflection as he stepped to the beat, head up and shoulder's back. His hips swung slightly as he demanded attention.

Santana grinned as she watched Kurt Hummel strut as he glided across the floor, complete with the Ice Queen expression on his face. His look dared you to try and be better than him. Dared you to want to be like him. He was untouchable. You could throw what you want at him; hit him down. But he would get up.

His armour was his biggest weapon in the modelling world.

Four poses and a strut back, Kurt turned on his heel and offered an arm to Santana with a smirk. The Latina raised an eyebrow at the challenge. She stepped forward and looped their arms. And on the next beat they were off.

Santana kind of wished they had been closer back at high school. She would have loved to see those homophobic assholes' faces if they walked like this down a corridor.

They owned it.

The practiced for an hour before calling it quits. Kurt was laughing at the end, and Santana was smiling an honest to god smile.

"You're going to make London your bitch," Santana remarked, opting not to wear her coat. Walking was actually quite the exercise.

Kurt huffed at her but grinned, teeth and all. He grin grew as he stared at her.

"What?"

"You should come to London with me."

Santana snorted, "Yeah right. I can't afford your all expenses paid trip."

Kurt shook his head," No, I mean. Isabelle is making me take an assistant. Technically I should be taking someone from the office but you are a Vogue dot com employee. I could get her to let me take you, all expenses paid."

Santana stared at him, gaping.

"I mean," Kurt added, "you'll be working as my PA and managing my schedule and stuff but you could come to London."

"Hummel, you little bitch!" Santana half screamed as she tackled him into a hug, "how dare you even consider taking anyone else!"

Kurt laughed. "Guess we are hitting up London."

"Do you know how much free shit we are going to get at the shows?!"

-0-0-0-

Celine approved of Kurt's walk, saying it was slightly unorthodox but he wasn't an orthodox model anyways.

Isabelle didn't even bat an eyelid when he informed her that he wanted Santana Lopez to be his assistant.

The week leading up to the London trip, Santana was at the main office learning the ropes of being a PA from Kurt whilst handling Kurt, the model, schedule. The office grew used to the snarky banter between the two friends.

Blaine, on the other hand, Skyped every day when he could. Kurt never felt lighter. They had cleared the air between them and they quickly fell into the old routine of just being together, even if they were oceans apart. Santana kept miming barfing at their cuteness but Kurt guessed she cheered them on because it gave some twisted form of hope.

NYADA had already given him the week off, because it was summer and he had a job that took him to London. Teachers gave him his homework in advanced whilst classmates lamented it was not fair he got to go to London.

Kurt waved them off with a grin, saying he would be working. Even if it was Fashion Week. Although, Professor Wren was not amused at his student's request. Kurt had to explain that he had been working at Vogue dot com for a year and this trip was planned months ago and he had to go. He had a major part in the project and his boss insisted. Plus it was all expenses paid trip to London.

Wren sighed and relented, if grudgingly. Kurt grinned and nodded before going back to his scales. Wren had been determined to not only clarify the notes Kurt could hit, but to increase the range of notes. He swore Kurt would be able sing a range of four octaves when he was done with him.

The only drama of that week was packing and the return of Rachel.

"I'm back," Rachel sang as she walked through the door, luggage wheeling in behind her, "now I know you've missed me and my voice. This summer is going to be amazing! If all goes to plan, I will have a lead role in Funny Girl! Call backs are happening in the next week!"

Kurt and Santana yelled their greetings but did not come out of their rooms. Rachel frowned at that but shrugged it off. She made her way to her room.

"Kurt!" Santana yelled in the small apartment. Rachel jumped in shock but it was Kurt who yelled back that there was no need to yell.

"Shut it, Hummel. I have the coat you need to take, no buts! Isabelle gave it to me for you," Santana said as she made her way to the hurricane Kurt's room. Kurt looked up from packing and frowned.

"I was planning on taking my McQueen," Kurt replied but took the offered coat bag.

Santana rolled her eyes, "You're modelling Marc Jacobs. You can't wear other brands. Isabelle's orders or she'll have my ass."

'Isabelle's orders' were the magic words.

Kurt groaned but he lovingly took out the coat he had been planning to pack.

"Oh come on, Kurt. You've been given thousands of dollars of free clothing."

"I know," Kurt grumbled, "but it's so restricting to only use a few labels."

Kurt moved grabbed a clothing bag from the bed and held it out to her. Santana took it, curious.

"Isabelle's orders," he said with a smirk, "you're my PA so you need to dress in Marc Jacobs at the after party."

Santana opened the bag and peaked inside before shrieking. The dress was a sexy black number with silver detailing she had considered stealing when she saw it in the Vault. She knew Kurt saw her love it and she had no doubt he pointed his boss at the dress.

"I'm going to look so fucking hot in this!"

Rachel suddenly appeared in the entranceway of the room. She looked at Santana holding the dress with wide eyes. "You got us dresses? When's the after party?"

Kurt and Santana traded looks and after a brief silent battle, Kurt turned to Rachel. "Um, Rachel. Sorry but I only have a dress for Santana."

Rachel opened her mouth but Kurt quickly added, "She's coming to London with me as my PA and she needs the dress for the London after party."

Brown eyes flickered between the two figures in the room, before she quietly said, "Kurt if you wanted to take a friend to London, I would have come back to New York earlier!"

Kurt shrugged at that, "Santana helped me a lot."

"Yeah, but Kurt," and Rachel started pleading, "think of what this could mean for my career! All the stars of West End attend London Fashion Week!"

"Yeah," Santana cut in, "and I'm a new model. This is just as much as a chance for me. And it's a job. I have to make sure princess here gets where he needs to be, dressed as he should be, on time. It's not going to be fun and games for the whole five days."

"I just," Rachel said, looking at Kurt with hurt eyes, "I thought I was your best friend."

"Rachel," Kurt sighed, "you are my friend. One of my best. And so is Santana. And she actually works for Vogue so the company would pay her expenses."

Rachel gave him a betrayed look before turning around. A few moments later, they heard the front door slam shut. The two looked at each other and sighed.

The weeks following Kurt's announcement of modelling and his solo, Kurt was strongly reminded of Rachel from high school. The girl who would do anything to be on top; to be the best. The version of Rachel Berry who couldn't stand to see anyone do better than her. Kurt, rationalised, that the saving grace was that while Rachel was not happy, she at least didn't try and send him to a crack house or something. She had matured quite a bit during high school and Kurt was thankful. At least he hadn't been in danger from sabotage, blackmail and manipulations. He liked to think that grew up from those days as well.

-0-0-0-

"Isabelle," Serena popped her head into the office, "Celine called. You need to go down."

Isabelle raised an eyebrow at that before returning to her computer. She opened the schedule of the modelling department, and Celine's in particular.

"She's working with Kurt," Isabelle summarised.

Serena nodded and she grinned, "Apparently, Mr Hummel found his inner model and he's ready for London. She wants your approval."

Isabelle hummed as she logged off. "Kurt did mention his friend had been helping. The new model we signed, Santana Lopez."

Serena nodded as her boss exited her office, and called out to the retreating figure, "Your next appointment is at two!"

Celine smiled when she saw Isabelle Wright enter the room. The modelling instructor had her doubts when her boss had brought in the boy Kurt Hummel. She could see the appeal to use him as photography model. He skin would simply glow under the lights. But he barely made the height requirement for a runway model. And when he walked, he was painfully self-conscious.

She knew she had her work cut out. And she hadn't thought Kurt would be ready for London. But he walked in that day and left her speechless.

"Kurt! Take it from the top!" Celine called over the music that was playing. Isabelle stopped next to her, and watched.

Kurt stepped onto the small runway that took over most of the room. He paused at the back and posed, as per training. But there was the air in his attitude that caught your eye. He stood, posture perfect, head high and gaze cool. Isabelle couldn't put her finger on it, but he carried himself like he was above everyone else. That you could throw what you wanted but he wouldn't stop. He looked good and he knew it.

And then he started walking.

'No,' Isabelle smiled, 'that's a strut like the best of them. It wouldn't work if he was anything but a main model.'

A strong glide, power coming from his hips that gave the lightest of sashays. Long steps to show off long legs and an expression of ice.

Kurt finished his route and Celine cut the music. The other models stopped their rehearsal.

"He's ready," Isabelle stated with a smirk as Kurt approached them, a slight flush on his cheeks. "What was the inspiration?"

Kurt snorted delicately, "Santana reminded me what they called me in high school when I walked down the corridors."

Isabelle quirked an eyebrow in question.

"Ice Queen."

~0~0~0~

Kurt had sighed for the umpteenth time in six hours. He was in economy and sitting next to Santana. The Latina was taking advantage of the international laws stating that 18 years olds could drink alcohol on international flights and sipping something or the other.

Flying 12 hours across an entire ocean was nerve wracking without having to sit next to his crazy friend. They were flying ahead of time to London. Marc wanted him there almost week before the show, meaning the pair flew off after Kurt's last lesson at NYADA. They would land in London on Saturday afternoon and hit the ground running. Someone would meet them and take them to the hotel to freshen up. Santana would be sharing a room with him. Kurt had already traded television rights for extra bathroom time. And then, they had to be at the House of Marc Jacobs.

He would fly back on Sunday the following week and had class at NYADA the next day. Kurt foresaw him being dead on his feet. If he didn't die from nerves first. The photo spread was hitting Vogue on Wednesday (British time) and the runway was on Friday. Saturday night was dinner with Blaine's family and then he was on his way back to New York on Sunday.

"Hummel," Santana said seriously, "get some rest."

Kurt looked at her with a raised an eyebrow. She had an empty glass in her hand.

"That was water Porcelain. We both need to be on our A-game when we get to London. So get some rest because you cannot have bags under your eyes."

He smiled at Santana and nodded. She had ensured that had been pre-booked into seats that were far from the toilets and by the window. She had shoved him into the window seat while she took guard by the aisle. It didn't miss Kurt's attention that it made it easier for him to sleep.

The rest of the flight passed quickly as they both slept until the flight attendant had to wake them up for the breakfast/lunch they would eat before landing.

After a bumpy landing, a long queue at border control and Santana's spectacular lunge for their baggage off the conveyor belt. The dirty look from the frazzled mother of three made them snigger and totally worth it.

"So, we have someone meeting up. They should be holding a Vogue sign with our names at the international arrival gate. If there isn't, I will cut someone," Santana said with venom, "But first."

She grabbed Kurt's arm and pulled his towards a foreign exchange. "We need some cash for emergencies. The rate sucks at airports but better safe than sorry."

They both exchange dollars for pounds, some personal money and some petty cash from Isabelle. They exited the gate, Kurt pushing their trolley of three rather large bags. Santana was on her phone and PDA already.

Moving slowly, Kurt looked out for the elusive board, but stopped short when his gazes met with something else. Santana almost crashed into him when he stopped so abruptly. She opened her mouth and promptly shut in when she saw what stopped him.

Blaine Anderson was standing holding a huge bouquet of roses, and a smile. Looking as dapper as ever.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Santana muttered. "Are we in Lifetime movie?"

Kurt was off, leaving the bags with Santana and not caring about the flowers, hugging Blaine.

"Blaine! What are you doing here?" Kurt practically squealed.

Blaine laughed, hugging his boyfriend with one arm whilst trying to save the roses. "My gorgeous boyfriend is in London. Of course I am going to meet at the airport."

Kurt laughed, "You do know I have to go to work."

"I know. I know," Blaine replied, "And that is why these are for you. Plus, I haven't seen you since New York."

Kurt accepted the flowers with a blush and a smile.

"And these are for you, Santana," Blaine added, handing her the box in his other hand. Santana raised an eyebrow at that but took it anyways. They were chocolates, expensive ones too.

"If this is a bribe, I expect more if you want to smex princess in our hotel room and need Auntie Snix to disappear for a few hours."

Kurt blushed and glared at her but Blaine smirked, "Duly noted."

"And we have to go so say your gay goodbyes. The assistant is heading our way. I said look for the rainbows coming from the gay love between the porcelain doll and his bowtie wearing boyfriend carrying roses."

Kurt rolled his eyes but kissed Blaine anyway. The pair refused to move from each other's arms until a woman dressed in red approached them.

"Kurt Hummel and Santana Lopez?" she asked, iPad in hand.

Santana bitched at her for being late, ignoring her apologies.

"Klaine! Break it up," Santana cut in, "We need to go."

And they were gone like a whirlwind, leaving Blaine standing alone in the airport. It gave a terrifying sense of déjà vu.

'No, not this time. I'm not messing my second chance.'

-0-0-0-

Thanks to his busy schedule Kurt didn't get a chance to see much of London apart from form the quick walks between subways, locations and taxis.

But it also made him lose track of time. The 'last minute details' that needed to be checked and redone were near endless. On the upside, Santana and he had been given a pass for most of the runway shows that week. It meant that when they weren't working they were checking out the competition or sleeping.

"Kurt! Wake up!" Santana shook him awake.

Kurt groaned but acquiesced at her request as he sat up. "What the hell, Santana? We have the morning off!"

"Change of schedule. Get dressed, we'll get breakfast on the way."

Kurt groaned as he saw that it was a little after 8. By 9, they were ready to leave the hotel. Kurt cringed at the fact that he now had Santana to dress him. She had swopped out his coat for the blazer from Marc's new collection. Kurt just went with it. She always had some order for whatever action she took.

Santana and him headed to the subway, and used their week-passes. Kurt let Santana lead him around. The girl had memorised the London underground map in one day and used it like a Londoner.

"Come on," she pulled on his arm, "this is us."

Kurt followed her. He knew this stop. They were heading were Fashion Week was hosted. He frowned but shrugged it off.

She pulled him to the side walk and power-walked down the street, dragging Kurt along for the ride.

"Santana, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?" Kurt groaned as they abruptly stopped.

The Latina said nothing as she handed him a magazine she had picked up from the rack in front of them. Kurt vaguely noted that they were in from of a small stall that sold newspapers and magazines and the like.

"Congratulations Porcelain, you're officially famous!" Santana said with a smirk.

Kurt stared at the magazine in his hands as he vaguely heard Santana speak. He had forgotten that it was Wednesday.

Vogue magazine had him on the cover. Kurt Hummel was on the cover of Vogue magazine!

"Holy shit," Kurt said in a low voice as he stared at the picture with wide eyes. It was one of the first photos from what he could recall. That gorgeous suit he would sell his first born for. Kurt almost didn't recognise himself. His eyes were staring straight at you, looking vividly blue against the grey background. It was the one where he had been pulling his tie off.

"You think that's impressive? Check that out," Santana added, pointing to something behind him.

Kurt turned around, half afraid of what was there. The sight he was met with made his jaw drop.

Marc Jacobs had hired out a billboard near Somerset Hall. Splashed across said billboard was the group shot of seven models decked out in the latest Marc Jacobs' fashion, with Kurt front and centre. It advertised the show on Thursday and the new line hitting the stores on Friday.

"Holy shit!" Kurt muttered again as he tried to process what he was seeing. It was like everything was finally hitting him: he was an international model for one of the biggest fashion houses.

He brought out of his daze by the sound of a camera and turned to glare at Santana. She merely smirked as she tapped away on her phone.

"What the hell did you just do?" Kurt questioned.

"Just snapped a photo and tweeted it. Isabelle has a copy too," Santana replied, nonchalantly, "It's not every day Vogue has a model debut like this. Plus, apparently people are loving the people piece they did on. Something about being a PA that 'stumbled into fame' is 'connecting with the readers' so they can dream big."

"Are you going to pay for that or not?" came the very British voice from behind them. Kurt turned around and blushed slightly at the owner of the newspaper stand.

"Chill old man," Santana cut in as she rummaged her bag for cash, "We were just taking the awesomeness that is my friend here. Kurt Hummel is officially an international model, taking the cover of Vogue in his first job."

Kurt's blush deepened but smiled at the magazine in his hands.

The old man looked at Kurt with narrows eyes before they widened and glanced at the billboard and then to the stack of Vogue magazines. He grinned at the pair before picking up another copy of Vogue and a marker.

"Well, Mr Hummel was it? How about this: you sign one of these for me and we'll call it even. I have a daughter who loves this magazine. She would be murder me if I didn't get your autograph," he said with a smile.

Kurt had to give a shocked chuckle at that as he looked wide eyed at Santana. The girl laughed as she raised an eyebrow. Kurt took that as the okay to sign the magazine.

"Thanks," the man said with a grin.

"No problem," Kurt replied, "Thanks for the magazine."

He turned to Santana and stared wide eye at her, "I just signed my first autograph."

"I know, I just tweeted that. And Vogue dot com retweeted it."

The two looked at each other and grinned. It was strange but beautiful friendship.

"Come on," Santana finally said, "there actually was a reschedule. We just need to check in at Marc Jacobs and then Vogue HQ. Then we are both free for the rest of the day. Tomorrow is the final run through and then its show time."

Kurt rolled his eyes at the girl but followed her lead. They ended up being able to just walking into a meeting with Marc, who had a rare free moment when they arrive.

"Kurt!" the man grinned as he opened his arms to hug the American boy.

Kurt froze at the action even as he hugged back.

Santana laughed at the amused expression Marc had at the pure wonder on Kurt's face. "Out of everything that has happened today, you've shocked him the most. I honestly think you just sent him to gay heaven. He's like your biggest fan."

Marc laughed at that, "And I'm grateful for that! The spread was fantastic. We had to increase the number of seats for the how, and even that's old out. And there is still a demand! We had to add two more rows for some A-listers and Miranda Presley just confirmed her attendance."

"Everyone is talking about the newcomer," someone added from behind them. Kurt turned to see the perfectly cool Seo Joon standing at the door. "The press questioned me more about you than about the actual shoot."

"Seo Joon," Marc greeted with a smile, Kurt numbly adding his own greeting. "You're in London?"

The Korean shrugged, "I wanted to see the show. Any chance I can get two seats or is it that sold out?"

"I'll work something out," Marc waved his hand at his assistant. Instead, he moved a rather pale Kurt to a chair, "Are you okay?"

Kurt nodded as he sat down.

Seo Joon snorted, "I just wanted to see the end of the project from hell."

Marc laughed at that but looked at Kurt with a worried expression.

"He's fine," Santana said as she shooed the man away from Kurt, "Just give him some space. He's been hit with a few surprises today."

Marc nodded, ignoring Seo who made himself comfortable and turned to her. "I called you in because I need to speak to you."

Santana nodded as she opened up the organiser on her iPad, "What do I need to change?"

"Nothing, I was actually wondering if you would model tomorrow," Marc said plainly, "Isabelle mentioned you were friends with Kurt and helped him with his walk. And that you are a model. Turns out, I swear this project is cursed, one of our models fell and injured her ankle. She can't walk tomorrow. You know the order and the runway, so I'm offering the position to you first."

"She'll do it," Kurt cut in, "Santana will do it."

The Latina stared at him wide eyed, but the ex-cheerleader brushed her off. "Satan, this is one hell of an opportunity. You will do it. Because if I can walk it, so can you."

"Well," she managed to pull herself together, "looks like I'm a junior model for Marc Jacobs. Watch it Porcelain, I'm going to catch up fast."

Kurt grinned at that, as he raised his chin, relaxing in the chair like he owned the world, "Bring it on Satan."

"How long have you two being friends?" Seo cut in as he traded looks between the two, "you have good chemistry."

Kurt and Santana looked at each other and laughed.

"We've known each other since high school," Kurt said, face red from laughter, "We are roommates now along with another girl from high school."

"I'm lesbian and he's gayer than a rainbow, apart from his brief stint dating my ex-girlfriend and my stint as a beard for a guy that was in love with him," Santana added, wheezing from laughing.

Seo and Marc blinked at that, before the Frenchman said, "You had the most interesting high school life."

"You have no idea," two models at the same time.

Santana signed a pile of forms, as well as the late minute correspondence from Vogue. Isabelle was grinning like a cat that ate the canary. Vogue was published but she rushed an article on Santana's new status as a model on the website.

It was lunchtime when then made their way to Vogue to see what Miss Wright wanted with them. They grabbed bagels on the way, laughing at every newsstand they passed and yet another billboard advertising Marc Jacob's new line.

The meeting at Vogue was quick, just an update and congratulations on the spread.

"Now we're free," Santana announced when they left the office of the Ice demon. Kurt paused for moment in the busy corridor.

"Come on," he said as he pulled her to the elevator. Instead of pressing down, he pressed the button for upwards.

The ended up taking the stairwell to get the roof. Thankfully the wind was not strong even though they were thirty floors up.

"If you're planning to jump, I would like to remind you that not only would you break a hobbit's heart but you would ruin my chance at a modelling career and for that, I will resurrect you and kill you slowly," Santana said plainly.

Even if the view was gorgeous.

"I'm not planning to jump," Kurt replied with an eye roll, "I did a lot of practicing on the roof of our apartment."

He glided across the roof to the other end before turning.

"It helps me imagine the world at my feet," Kurt added, "I thought we could get some practice in."

Santana just looked stunned for a moment.

"How did you know?"

"What that you are nervous about the show?" Kurt asked. He shrugged, "Anyone would be. Plus, your walls came up to hide it. And I know that because it's what I've done."

"Why weren't we friends in high school?"

"Because it was McKinley and I was the awkward, Broadway loving gay kid and you were the hot cheerleader," Kurt replied with a shrug. "Too much bitch in one friendship for one school."

Santana grinned, "Who would have thought that we would be the first to be famous from our little band of misfits."

"Mr Shue's money was on Rachel."

Santana snorted, "Please, he drooled over her to point it was creepy."

"And we are going to force them to see us. Nothing we haven't done before," Kurt replied with a little more than his usual sass. "Now quit stalling. Head up, and walk from your hips. Time to own the world, Santana Lopez."

~0~0~0~

It was early, going on five when Burt Hummel pulled up to the nearest convenience store that would be opened and actually carried Vogue magazine. Carole was already in the kitchen, waiting anxiously with a pot of coffee. Even Finn, who had come home midweek to await the news together with his family.

Burt bustled into the store and made beeline for the magazine rack. There wasn't any Vogue. He cursed mentally and made his way to the cashier. The guy behind the till, Burt knew from experience, was the owner.

"Hey Neal," Burt greeted, his eyes spotting the piles of new magazine's at his feet.

"Burt!" the middle aged blond greeted, "What can I do for you at the ass crack of dawn?"

"I need your new Vogue magazine," Burt blurted out.

Neal raised an eyebrow at that but nodded, "It just got delivered. I need to add it to the system. Did your kid send you out at 5 am for it?" He had to ask in disbelief. Everyone knew that Burt's kid, Kurt, was a queer one. Sure the kid was gay but he was a good kid.

Burt laughed at that, and explained," No, Kurt's in London. He works for the online Vogue. He ended up modelling for the last project he worked on. I wanted to get a copy before I called him."

Neal raised an eyebrow at that but made no comment. "How about I give you a copy to look through while I enter it on the system?"

Burt smiled gratefully and nodded. Neal heaved the wrapped stack onto the counter, and used a craft knife to open the packaging. He froze when he moved the brown paper.

"Burt man…." Neal looked at him wide eyed. He was a simply guy. He knew next to nothing but he knew that the Vogue he got was an international magazine. He wife had drilled that much into him. He picked up the first magazine and turned it around for Burt to see. "You kid is on the cover of _Vogue?_"

"Holy shit," Burt murmured as he took in the picture of his son that was on the cover of Vogue. He baby boy, who looked grown up and _sexy_. "Neal, buddy. I think I'm going to need more than one copy."

Neal nodded, still staring at the magazine in slight shock. He could read. The words on the cover stated that 'Exclusive! Marc Jacobs Summer Line!' and 'Meet Kurt Hummel, Vogue PA turned Model!'

"Open it!" Neal urged, forgetting about the till.

Burt ripped open the plastic, dropping the extra pamphlets and items on to the counter. He flipped to the contents page before going directly to the photo spread. And there were pages, in which every photograph, Kurt was front and centre.

And he looked beautiful. And bigger than life.

And then there was the article about him. Burt read it out aloud at Neal's prodded. His mind spun at what was written.

_Kurt Hummel, 19, from Lima, Ohio, Lives in NYC._

_Currently a student at the New York Academy of Dramatic Arts and part time PA to Isabelle Wright at Vogue dot com. _

_Award winning photographer insisted on using Kurt Hummel as the main model and is quoted, "It's like seeing a polish diamond left in the dirt. Kurt Hummel has a quality that shines on film. I was just lucky to see it first. He brings a level of class; an aura of being untouchable when he steps into the room. You notice him." _

"_Kurt Hummel brings out what inspired this collection. I am extremely happy with how he showcases my clothing," Marc Jacobs gushes when questioned at his unconventional choice of main model, "I look forward to not only working with him again but to see how far he goes in both the modelling world but on the stage as well."_

"_I have no experience at modelling," Kurt Hummel replies in a dry yet amused tone, "this was a crazy idea and I was caught up in the whirlwind. But I wouldn't change a thing. I would say my inspiration for my 'cool as ice and untouchable aura' comes from High school. I mean, I grew up being the only out gay kid in the middle of Ohio. I got a lot of abuse for that alone but I love high fashion and dressed like it. I spent four years refusing to be beaten out of who I am and what I loved, so I learnt how to walk down a corridor full of hate and just let it roll off me and hold my head high. I never thought that four years of bullying would ever help me in anyway, but guess I was wrong."_

_High school friend and fellow Vogue model, Santana Lopez added, "When Kurt walked the halls in one of his crazy outfits, whether you loved or hated him, you noticed him. He's always walked as if nothing could touch; that he was better."_

_Kurt Hummel will be featured at the Marc Jacobs' Runway Show at London Fashion Week at the request of Marc Jacobs' himself. All eyes will on the newcomer as this Cinderella story plays out._

"Burt," Neal said in all seriousness, "You're kid is famous."

Burt's grin practically split his face, "I know! About damn time people saw him shine too. Neal, I think I'm going to need five copies of these."

The chaos that descended on the Hummel-Hudson household was of epic proportions. Finn kept staring at the magazines and Carol kept bursting into squeals. As she read and reread the magazine.

"Burt, you have to go to McKinley," Finn blurted out over breakfast. They had calmed down somewhat. "I have to go to class but Mr Schue will be so excited to see this! I mean, I need to text the other glee members. I wonder if Rachel has seen this yet. Or Mercedes." 

Burt nodded with a grin, "And that cheerleading coach. No matter what, she always had Kurt's back."

Carol smiled at them, "You two take these copies. I'll pick another one up. It's not every day I get to show off that my son is on the cover of a magazine to the girls at work."

Finn looked ta his mum with wide eyes, "Will you get Kurt to Skype me after he talks to you guys? I need to get back to the dorms."

"Sure honey," Carole replied as she opened the magazine again. She turned to Burt and asked, "I think these will look wonderful framed, don't you?"

When they all headed out, Burt had to go open up the garage first. He proudly placed one magazine on the small table in the waiting area. He also took down a framed photograph of one of the many sports cars that littered the wall behind the front desk. Instead, he put up the hastily framed cover of Vogue next to the family picture.

A quick word with one of his senior employees, Marty, to take charge, Burt could leave; two magazines in hand. One for Schuester and one for Sylvester. He made his way to McKinley, and made his way to the teacher's lounge. He was hoping to catch the two before school started.

Burt Hummel entered the teacher's lounge and grinned when he saw Schuester was sitting with his wife Emma. Sylvester was there as well, as well as Finn's old football Coach Biest. Burt briefly wondered if Schuester found a way to keep the Glee club going. The kids had been devastated when the club officially shut down but from what Finn said, they had all gone and joined some other musical group or the other. And they met regularly, to 'just jam'.

"Burt Hummel!" Sue Sylvester greeted when she noticed his presence, "Both your spawn have graduated from these halls. What do we owe the pleasure of this visit?"

Despite their competition for Congress, the two had a good rapport built around Kurt. Burt suspect that despite what Sue said, she had a soft spot for Kurt.

Burt smiled as he approached the table. "I have some news, I thought you would like to know."

They smiled at him. Biest grinned, "I watched Finn's last game. Even if he got five minutes on the field, kid's good."

Schuester smiled and nodded, "Rachel called about her callback from Funny Girl. We are really proud of her."

"The old glee kids are really making a name for themselves," Emma added, "Mercedes signed a record deal from what I hear."

Sue Sylvester stared down Burt Hummel and the smile never left his face. "What has sweet Porcelain achieved that brought you here today?"

Burt grin, if possible, grew broader, "He couldn't tell anyone until it was released because of his contract, but…" And he put down a copy of Vogue.

"Oh my," Emma said as she stared wide eyed at the cover of the magazine, "is that _Kurt?"_

"Yup," Burt said proudly, "Kurt was asked to be the main model for this new line of clothing while he was helping out at Vogue dot com. He's in London right now. He's going to be in the runway show at that Fashion Week. He also helped Santana get a job at Vogue as a model. She's with him right now."

"Sweet Porcelain is a model," Sue said quietly at the shocked table, "I always knew that he would make it."

"How?" Will Schuester asked as he stared at the magazine in shock, "and isn't this an international thing?"

Burt shrugged but he had the biggest grin on his face, "Kurt is an officially an international Vogue model and it was luck mostly. Apparently the hot shot photographer they flew in loved how he looked and talked the designer into getting Kurt to be the main model."

Sue nodded, "It is expected. He was always striking in appearance. I expect that of all my Cheerios. And he's sticking up for his teammates? He was always captain material. He is getting paid as a supermodel, correct? He should know how to read and strong arm contracts. It is part of standard Cheerio training."

Burt nodded as Emma flipped open the magazine carefully to look at the photo spread. "Yeah. He's told me that he will pay for NYADA for the next year and that he's got quite the safety fund above that. He did mention his boss was impressed that he knew he way around contracts."

Sue nodded, "It is a valuable life skill."

"Kurt is modelling _Marc Jacobs_?" Emma blurted out, turning her wide eyes to Burt. While she was not a fashionista, she did know her way around some of the brands. She loved her Jimmy Choo after all.

"I thought that you would like to see what he achieved," Burt said with a grin as he handed her the other copy of Vogue he had brought. "You were one of his favourite teachers."

With that, Burt said his goodbyes and left. He had a business to run and a son to brag about to his workers and customers. If this wasn't s pit in the face to the homophobic assholes of Lima, he didn't know what was.

"Guess what Will," Sue Sylvester grinned in victory as she pointed to a page with the article written about Kurt, "out of your Gleeks, my Cheeio, and the boy you never gave a solo was the first to become famous first."

Will rolled his eyes even as Biest and Emma 'oohed' and 'ahhed' over the magazine, "Kurt has done something impressive but I don't think being a model equates to being a success in music. Rachel is waiting on a call back for Funny Girl on Broadway."

"That's what you think, Curly. But Porcelain is smart and just as ambitious. Kid knows that by getting his face out there, and mentioning he is a student at that school, they will be begging him to perform for them. Just wait and see. Kurt Hummel may have been one of your singing drones that swayed in the background, but he was also the star singer that led me to my sixth National victory."

~0~0~0~

John Anderson stared at the magazine his wife and son was going crazy over. It had taken him a while but he had come around to his accepting his son's sexuality, and his relationship with his boyfriend. Despite everything, he was happy to see the happy Blaine who had bounced around the house for the last two weeks. He had been overjoyed that he had fixed his relationship with Kurt.

John wasn't comfortable really talking about it but he was happy to see Blaine happy again.

Elsa was beyond happy that Blaine was dating Kurt again. She hadn't been too happy when Blaine had returned from his impromptu trip to New York in tears. In fact, she had been so disappointed when Blaine confessed that he had cheated on Kurt and that was why they broke up.

She had loved Kurt from the first moment she had met him. But more than anything, Blaine had been practically floating with happiness. That was the sole reason they had agreed to send Blaine to that public school. Their son who had been beaten down and near broken, found something, someone worth fighting for. He found a reason to face the world rather than hide away behind a mask.

"Wait," John cut in the gushing at the breakfast table. His parents were watching with amused expressions as his wife and son babbled on. "What is happening exactly?"

Blaine was beaming, giddy as he bounced around in his seat, "Dad, you know my boyfriend Kurt?" Here, he paused to watch his father, just in case he reverted to his old self.

John rolled his eyes at that, "The boy you have been in love with since sophomore year, Yes, I know Kurt."

"Well, Kurt is in London. That was why I went to the airport," Blaine babbled on, excitement shining in his eyes. "He works part time for Vogue dot com and he was working on this huge project. Well, long story short, he ended being asked to be the main model for Marc Jacob's new line! I mean, it's crazy! He's one the cover of Vogue and he's the main model for the photo spread and the advertisement campaign and he's modelling on the runway on Friday."

Blaine paused to catch his breath as John tried to process what he son had just said.

"So poppy," Katherine Anderson cut in, "your darling is modelling in that magazine?"

Blaine turned to her, eyes still wide as he nodded vigorously.

"Well then, bring it here! Let me see the boy that has you practically floating off the ground in happiness," she said with a smile.

Elsa grinned at her son as she handed over the magazine. Blaine shuffled down the table and gave his grandmother the magazine. She held it up and eyed the boy on the cover.

"My word, poppy. Your darling is quite the beauty," Katherine finally said with a grin. She turned to her husband, "What do you think, dear?"

Blaine just beamed at that as he heart swelled with pride at his boyfriend's success. Not to mention it was one hell of an ego booster when your boyfriend is a model.

"Oh, and he managed to get us seats to the runway show," Blaine added, almost forgetting the detail in the wake of photographs. 'I really need to go and buy a few more copies.'

"We have tickets for Marc Jacobs?!" his mum squeaked in happiness and started gushing, again.

John sighed and winced at the beating his credit card was going to take once his wife hit the shops after Fashion Week.

~0~0~0~

New York was the perfect place for Rachel Berry. She breezed through her morning routine, feeling far too lonely in the empty apartment. It was disconcerting to be so alone in such a big city. So she busied herself.

Rachel grabbed her bag, double checking that she did have her resume, and she was out the door.

'Today, I'm getting the role,' she told herself. 'If you don't believe you are a star, how can the casting director?'

She took the subway across town. It was the price she paid for having an apartment she could actually afford: being so far from almost everything.

Getting off the subway, she made a beeline for the little cart that sold the best bagels ever. She and Kurt had made that little discovery when they splurged on rushed tickets to a play.

"A vegan special please," Rachel requested as she handed over the correct amount of cash. The man nodded at her before she stepped to the side to wait for her bagel.

She would rather use the time to be productive, rechecking her schedule of the auditions for the summer. With the extra shifts she had picked up at the Spotlight Diner, she only had a limited amount of time to attend auditions. But she really would like the extra money. Rachel hated that her fathers' still paid part of her rent.

She accepted her bagel with a smile and made her way down the street, using a short cut to get to the audition hall.

'Sofia is a love struck but religious girl who would never express her love. She will always be virtuous,' she went over the character in her head. 'I just need the perfect song. Or perhaps, I should just go with Rain on my parade. It does show off my voice and talent.'

It made her stop in the middle of the side walk. She ignored the various dirty looks that was sent her way as people bustled around her. Her gaze was locked at the sight that had caught her eye while she had been power walking to her destination.

Across the street, on a billboard in the middle of Broadway was Kurt Hummel. The writing advertised Marc Jacobs' new line and release date. No, but the only person in the photograph was Kurt, dressed in loose clothing that had been sensually ruffled but not tacky, relaxing on a lounge chaise and looking like he didn't have a care in the world. It looked elegant, and the cold gaze screamed 'you wished you looked this good.'

In fact, his whole body screamed it. Kurt Hummel was an Ice Prince and the whole world could see it.

"Oh my god," Rachel muttered. She knew what Kurt and Santana had told him but it seemed it was bigger than what they let on.

~0~0~0~

"This is Kurt Hummel. I can't come to the phone right now, so please leave a message and I will get back to you as soon as possible."

Beep.

"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel! Boo you're in so much trouble! Why didn't you tell me you became a model?! I got the shock of my life when I walked past and saw your face on the freaking cover of Vogue! Boy, you look gorgeous! And holy hell you better call me the moment you step back onto American soil. I want the deets about London and modelling, or I will cut you! Love you boo. You look amazing!"

Beep.

"Kurt! OMG! YOU MET MARC JACOBS! And you're a model? Why the hell didn't you say anything? Anyways, kick ass in London and call me asap when you're back! By the way, if I ever need a model at Parsons, you're it."

Beep.

"Just wanted to say you look amazing in Vogue. Finn messaged all the gleeks. I went out and bought a copy. None of the girls at my dorm here at Yale can believe I know you, even though they've seen the picture of glee club. Break a leg in London and see you soon, okay? Take care of yourself. Bye."

Beep.

"Dude, its Puck. Listen, I don't know much about this fashion stuff but apparently it's a big thing. So congrats man. Oh, and saying that the model Kurt Hummel is our buddy got me chicks, Princess. So, thanks for that! See you when I see you!"

Beep.

"Kurt its Mike. I heard from Tina and Finn about your modelling. Congrats man! I always figured it would be you, Rachel or Mercedes to make it big first. Good luck and maybe we can hang later? I will be visiting Tina before the end of summer. Let me know. Bye."

Beep.

"Hey Kurt. It's Britney. I just wanted to saw you looked really pretty in those pictures and I'm so happy the world can see how special you are. Call me? I miss talking to you."

Beep.

~0~0~0~

It spread like wildfire among the summer students that it wasn't long before it reached Hardison's ears. Although he didn't like to stereotype his students, a good portion of his gay students read Vogue religiously. So when he found a pair furiously discussing the new issue the day it came out, he brushed it off. Until the name 'Kurt Hummel' was thrown around.

Hardison knew that Mr Hummel worked for Vogue dot com, and by extension, Vogue. He also knew he was going to Fashion week in London as part of his job, but details of which he couldn't give without violating his contract.

So it was somewhat shocking when he approached the pair of students as to what they were going on about, they showed him the latest Vogue magazine which had Kurt Hummel on the cover.

'What on Earth?' he had to question. But quickly flipped to the article on Kurt Hummel and read the full 'Cinderella' story of NYADA student and now, part time model.

He blinked. "Huh. So this is why he was going to London."

The students went crazy as Kurt Hummel's status skyrocketed. It was on every NYADA gossip circle and chat room within hours.

~0~0~0~

"You cannot be having a breakdown," Santana bit out as people pulled at her hair and poked her with needles. "Because it's my turn to have a complete meltdown."

It was the morning of the show and they were backstage, getting prepped. It was six hours and counting till curtains up. Santana would have to walk three outfits but Kurt was modelling eleven and practically carrying the second half of the show.

That meant they had almost six hours of panicking.

"I'm going to be sick," Kurt bit out, looking so pale that the make-up artist looked worried.

"Don't you dare pull a Marley on me, Hummel! Or I swear I will commit Hummelcide," Santana shot back as they finished sewing her first outfit while it was on.

Most of the other models were staring at them, smirking at their amateur nerves but the pair honestly didn't care. What they did care about was not fainting on the runway.

"I thought the two of you were soloists," came an amused from the door. Kurt was unable to move because his make-up artist had her claws in his face.

"Isabelle!" Santana greeted with relief in her voice.

"The question is why you're panicking when you get up on stage as a profession?"

"The stage I get up on is not in front of some best of the fashion industry where if I fall on my face I will completely embarrass myself on an international stage," Kurt replied in a dry voice.

Santana groaned at Kurt and try to throw a scrunch up piece of paper at him. "Shut up!"

"So why is this different? You could forget lines or lyrics or fall while dancing on stage," Isabelle pointed out.

"International stage," Santana pointed out.

"But this is what you're aiming for."

Santana and Kurt paused at that. Isabelle smiled at that.

"Good luck," she wished them, "I'll see you out there."

And she was gone.

The hours ticked by and before they knew it, it was time.

"Okay," Santana muttered to herself, "I'm a cold hearted bitch. What the hell am I freaking out for? I got this!"

"You've got more than this," Kurt cut in, a small smile on his lips. "You are going to own this."

Santana nodded jerkily, but smirked, "See you out there."

"Bring it," Kurt added.

"WWMD?"

Kurt actually laughed at that. 'What would Madonna do, indeed?'

It was a blur. The actually show. Kurt could remember standing backstage and then stepping into the light. He remembered walking down the runway like he owned it. He remembered the flashes and the music.

And in the next moment, Kurt was standing next to Marc, clapping at the end of the show. Santana was on his right, smiling as she stood in a gorgeous black number.

And then it was a wrap. He was hustled out of his clothing and into his post-party outfit. Marc and Seo and Isabelle had tackled him, all talking excitedly. Santana joined them as soon as she changed as well.

It was finally time to exhale. Kurt felt his knees give out as he sunk to the ground.

"Shit! Kurt!" Santana cried out in shock as Kurt went down. Isabelle joined her, kneeling beside the shaking Kurt. Marc called for both water and cola.

"I just," he looked at Santana completely pale and in shock, "I just. I did it. I actually did that."

Santana gave an abrupt chuckle. "Yeah, you did Porcelain. You were the lead and you owned it. You walked like you ruled the world."

"He's okay. Everything's just catching up with him," Isabelle informed the two hovering men, although she did take the cola and press it into Kurt's hands.

"Take a few minutes," Marc added, "but you're going to be at the centre of the party."

Kurt flushed at that. Marc and Seo were called out of the room.

Santana snorted, "Don't forget whose waiting for you."

Isabelle looked up at that and grinned, "Is the infamous Blaine here?"

"Oh yeah. Dapper Man is freaking half-British and shit," Santana replied as she forced Kurt to 'drink the damn cola.'

It took a few more minutes before Kurt could pick himself up and let Santana fix his makeup. Isabelle fussed with him clothing before they could leave. Santana still got to wear the black dress with silver detailing as it was from Marc's last collection and she looked drop dead gorgeous in it.

Kurt, on the other hand, was once again, decked out in the suit that he first modelled, and that ended up on the cover of Vogue. It had been refitted three times over the last four days til it fit him like a glove and yet he could probably dance in it.

"Ready to be world famous?" Isabelle asked the pair as they walked out of the backstage area and towards the conference room next door where the party was already going on.

Kurt gave an honest laugh at that, eyes shining. "Please, I was born ready."

"You got that right," Santana added before they entered.

"You two go and find Marc. Stick by him. I need to find Anna and we'll join you," Isabelle said over the music before she turned and disappeared into the crowd.

The two walked towards what seemed like the centre of the party, taking note of how people moved aside for them.

"There they are! My two Vogue models!" Marc cried out, champagne glass in hand. "Santana Lopez, the model who stepped in yesterday and the fabulous Kurt Hummel, the one in a million!"

Kurt smiled and received the hug before stepping to his side, acute aware of the flashing of cameras.

"Kurt, Santana, this is the amazing Miranda Presley, editor of Runway," Marc introduced them to the stern lady everyone was keeping a distance from.

Her cold eyes felt like they were boring into his soul, judging Kurt from the inside out. But, holy shit, he was standing in front of the Miranda Presley.

"It's an honour to meet you, Miss Presley," Kurt managed to say, even if he sounded like Mickey Mouse from nervousness, "I read Runway religiously."

Presley merely hummed, before asking, "How long did you practice for today's show. Mr… Hummel was it?"

Kurt nodded but looked nervous at the question, "A little more than a week."

Miranda turned to Marc, "Who discovered Mr Hummel here? Because that was not the walk of a week's worth of practice."

"Seo Joon," Marc replied, eyes darting nervously to the side. This woman had the power to make or break anyone in the industry. "The photographer."

"Ah, Seo Joon. Excellent eye, for more than just photographs it seems," Miranda continued as she eyed Kurt's form.

"I look forward to seeing you again," Presley said in a cool voice before turning to Marc. "It's a good collection. Send your advertisement and spread to Runway as is. Mr Hummel adds a certain flair to your style."

And she was gone, leaving a gaping Marc. "She complimented my line. Miranda Presley complimented my line."

"And?" Santana questioned, not quite getting the importance.

"If Miranda Presley likes your work, you're guaranteed success," Kurt explained as Marc tried to breath like a normal person. "A compliment is practically a miracle."

Santana blinked, not quite getting the significance, "And her compliment to you?"

"Holy shit," Kurt muttered as his brain caught up with what just happened, "I need a drink."

Without a word, Marc grabbed three glasses off the nearest waiter and handed him each one before downing his own. Kurt followed suit while Santana chose to sip the high class champagne.

They had to smile at some as some big wigs who placed orders by the hundreds of thousands of dollars. Designers, celebrities and media flocked around them, especially when Anna and Isabelle joined the group.

It was after an hour into the party that the pair of models could slip away and get some food. They made a beeline for the buffet table, smiling and accepting nods of congratulations.

"Oh thank Gaga," Kurt muttered as he devoured the first sandwich he could get his hands on. Santana said nothing as she too was eating quickly and as lady like as possible. But they hadn't eaten since breakfast and after the nerves left, they were starving.

"I don't know what I'm eating but its damn good," Santana moaned around the mouthful of food she was trying to swallow.

"They have mini pizzas," a voice said from behind Kurt. A very familiar voice. "They're to die for."

Kurt turned around and threw his hands around Blaine's neck in one smooth motion.

"Blaine!"

Strong arms wrapped around Kurt's waist as he hugged Blaine's neck close, breathing in the faint raspberry scent of his hair gel.

"God Kurt," Blaine breathed into the crook of his boyfriend's neck, "you were _fantastic_."

He pulled back to stare at his gorgeous boyfriend. Somewhere in the back ground they noted that Santana remarked about going to look for pizza.

"I can't even begin to describe," Blaine babbled, arms wrapped around Kurt's trim waist but careful of the clothing. "You took my breath away. I mean, you are gorgeous and beautiful but holy crap you looked out of this world up there."

"Blaine," Kurt cut in, "Breathe honey."

Blaine sucked in a lungful of air before breathing out, "You were perfect and I don't mean the clothes."

Kurt laughed at that. He hugged Blaine close and laughed. His ridiculous boyfriend who knew exactly what to say, even if it was by pure accidental blurting of thoughts. The boy that knew him better than Kurt thought he knew himself sometimes.

Even if their 'break' in their relationship had not been planned or pain-free, it had been good in its own way. They had bot noticed the small changes in the other. They were less Klaine and more 'Kurt and Blaine'. Both a little more secure in themselves and not losing themselves in their relationship.

But dear Teapot on the Moon, Kurt knew he wouldn't survive if Blaine cheated again. 'Happy thoughts,' Kurt forced himself to think as he finally stopped laughing, 'don't think of things like that. He won't. Not again. We'll be better this time.'

Blaine, had some point, joined Kurt in his laughter as he kept his boyfriend wrapped up in his arms. Eventually they both calmed down but they couldn't bring themselves to move; eyes still locked on one another.

"You're just," Kurt said, slightly breathlessly that had nothing to do with their laughter, "you're kind of perfect. Thank you."

Blaine just blinked, as if he couldn't quite believe the sight before him. "As long as I'm your perfect that's all I need."

Kurt almost groaned, and simultaneously melt, as his boyfriend's cheesiness and romantic side.

It was Santana returning to their side that forced them apart. She shoved a plateful of food into Kurt's hands. "He hasn't eaten since breakfast. Eat."

Kurt shot her a glare but ate slowly as the tempting smell of the pizza hit his nose. Blaine merely wrapped an arm about him and they moved away from the buffet table, requesting some water from a waiter.

"You were fantastic Santana," Blaine complimented the Latina as Kurt ate liked a starved man with high class manners.

"You bet your ass I was," she shot back but smiled. "But Porcelain here stole the show. You should have heard the gossip back stage."

Blaine shrugged at that, "He kind of always does."

Then he got a very goofy look on his face as he stared at Kurt with his patented 'Heart Eyes'.

Kurt raised an eyebrow at that as he silently accepted the glass of water.

"My boyfriend is a model," Blaine _giggled_.

Santana burst out laughing at that. "Yeah, Hobbit. You got some major street cred now."

Kurt swallowed his drink before sighing, "You're not going to let that go, are you?"

"Nope," Blaine replied with a smirk, "because damn, I lucked out. My boyfriend is an ex-cheerleader, sings like an angel and is a model."

Kurt blushed at that but leaned into Blaine's arms ever so slightly as his boyfriend lightly squeezed him.

"Kurt, darling! You were fantastic!" Elsa Anderson said, as she stepped into their conversation. She grinned at him, showing a pair of every familiar hazel heart eyes, her own curls bouncing in excitement.

Blaine unwrapped his arms form Kurt to take the two bouquets so his mother could hug his boyfriend. Kurt barely managed to move the plate he was holding out of the arm before he had an armful of his 'sort of' mother-in-law.

As Elsa demanded Kurt's attention, Blaine turned to Santana with a smile and offered the bouquet of yellow roses to her. "For a spectacular show and watching out for him."

Santana raised an eyebrow at him but accepted the flowers. "Okay, firstly Frodo, I would watch out for Porcelain regardless and second, you are way too dapper."

Blaine shrugged, "I was raised a gentleman."

"You got game," Santana threw back. She tapped Kurt's shoulder to get attention away from the crazy woman who wouldn't let go of him. "I going to go mingle. I need to get me some connections. But don't leave without me."

Kurt nodded, smiling slightly at the flowers in her arm, at the subtle reminder that they were still working.

"Duty calls?" Blaine asked as Elsa stepped back. Blaine had heart eyes again. And it warmed her heart. She quietly slipped away to have a closer look at the dress one of the runway models was wearing. Blaine would find her.

Kurt sighed as nodded, "Technically, I'm still working. Even if it just standing around wearing this gorgeous suit."

"Well, I get you from tomorrow morning, right?" Blaine asked with a grin. He offered the rather large bouquet of red roses, interspersed with a few blue roses. "For being so fabulously you."

Kurt blushed at that and accepted the offering with a smile. He leaned over to give Blaine a peck on the lips, acutely aware of the cameras around them.

"You really didn't have to," Kurt said as he leaned in to smell his flowers, "the hotel staff are going to be amused when we have to call for another vase."

Blaine grinned unashamed. "My boyfriend just did his first runway. I would do more than just flowers, but since I only get you tomorrow, it will have to wait."

Before Kurt could reply, another voice cut in, "And this has to be the infamous Blaine."

Kurt looked up while Blaine turned, only to be met with the amused smile of Isabelle Wright. She was dressed in a sleek emerald green number but her eyes were locked on Blaine, taking in his fitted pants, corduroy blazer and the bright bowtie.

Kurt smiled as he shifted the large bouquet into one arm, clasping Blaine's hand with his free one. "Isabelle, this is my boyfriend Blaine. Blaine, my favourite boss, Isabelle Wright."

"Pleasure to finally meet you," Blaine greeted as he held out his free hand, a grin on lips.

Isabelle shook his hand but gave Kurt an amused smile. "You weren't kidding about him being dapper and gorgeous. I approve."

Blaine blushed as he looked back to his boyfriend.

"You better keep him away from the office. The girls, and some of the boys, will eat him up. Or try to murder him," Isabelle said with a smirk She turned to Blaine as she added. "There were many a heart broken when Kurt changed him status from 'single and not interested' to 'dating'."

Kurt rolled his eyes at that, but squeezed Blaine's hand gently.

"I'm guessing that I need to get back to mingling," Kurt said as he looked at his boss. She looked sheepish and nodded.

"I need you to meet some people, as does the terrible trio," Isabelle apologetically.

Blaine smiled at Kurt, "You should go. I get you from tomorrow."

Kurt gave that a smile and leaned in to accept the kiss.

"I now understand why you're only flying out on Sunday," Isabelle said with a grin. "You are staying with your boyfriend on a romantic London getaway."

And she winked.

Kurt blushed and groaned slightly. Blaine looked a little gobsmacked. He knew that Kurt said he and Isabelle were close but he didn't realise how close.

"Isabelle!" Kurt blurted, "I'm staying with his family. Blaine's grandparents live here."

"Half-British? Nice catch, Kurt!" Isabelle teased.

"Okay," Kurt announced, "we are going to go."

He turned to Blaine with an apologetic smile, "See you tomorrow?"

Blaine smiled back, raised his hand that clasped Kurt's, and kissed his knuckles. "Bright and early. But mail me when you get back to the hotel. I'll call your room."

With one last kiss for Kurt and a smile for Isabelle, Blaine disappeared into the crowd in search of his mother.

"He's something alright," Isabelle told her PA with a smile, "I can see why you're head over heels in love with him."

Kurt flushed at that but handed off his empty plate a passing waiter, but still held the roses close.

"He looks at you like you mean the world to him," Isabelle said quietly as Kurt straightened his clothing and gathered himself. "He's so in love with you I can practically see the hearts above his head."

"It was never a question about love," Kurt admitted, "We were young and didn't know how to communicate over a distance. We were both so insecure and terrified of the pain of losing one another. We always loved each other. And it made the pain worse."

"Well," she said as she motioned for them to move, "smile in place. We have people to charm, and connections to make. There are some designers who are asking after you. I know you said this wasn't a career for you but it doesn't hurt to have a few side jobs. And I do believe Seo Joon would like us to meet his girlfriend."

"He's _straight_?" Kurt asked incredulously as they smiled at the cameras that went off.

"I know," Isabelle said through her smile, "who knew. He pinged on my gaydar; loudly."

"I think my gaydar is broken," Kurt shot back as they stepped towards Anna, Seo Joon and very pretty girl, smile plastered on his face.

~0~0~0~

Boo is evil and persistent. The second instalment of Cover had to split into two parts.

Read and Review!

Third, and hopefully final, part will be up soon!


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